Freedom
by FadedPromise
Summary: A continuation of the AU that began with 'Prisoners' and continued with 'Interlude'. Lucien and Jean are free of the Japanese prison camp but must deal with the consequences of their long imprisonment.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This begins on the morning after 'Interlude'. It will make much more sense if you've read "Prisoners' and 'Interlude' before starting this one. Thank you to everyone who has been reading this saga, and especially to those who've taken the time to leave a comment. _

Jean hummed happily to herself as she prepared breakfast. All was well in her world. Her nightmare was practically forgotten, all but the memory of Lucien's presence to help her through it.

Life was good. She had a dependable job that provided her and the boys a lovely place to live and a decent wage to live on. Thomas was a good man - kind to all three of them and a respectable member of Ballarat society. And now Lucien and Li had arrived to join them. It would mean more work for her, she knew, but what was that compared to the company of the man she loved with all her heart and his darling little girl?

When she was in the camp and matters were at their worst, this was the kind of day Jean had longed for: doing ordinary things with the people she cared about the most. She had nothing special planned, but still she looked forward to it.

Lucien was the first one downstairs, greeting her with a smile and a cheery "Good morning."

"Good morning, and thank you for your support last night."

"No more bad dreams after that?" he asked.

"Not a one," she assured him. "How did you sleep?"

He grimaced. "Not too well, but it's been the same for a while. It's not because I'm here."

"Maybe it will change now that you're here though," said Jean. "Sit. Tea is ready. The rest will be a few minutes."

"Thank you, Jean, but you don't really have to wait on me," Lucien said kindly.

"Oh, were you planning to cook your own breakfast?" she asked before smiling. "Lucien, it's my job, remember? And I would have to make it for myself and the boys anyway, so please don't feel guilty. Besides, I Enjoy cooking for the people I love."

"Well, then, I guess it's settled," said Lucien. "I suppose I could set the table, if I can remember where everything is."

"That's one of Jack's chores, but I'm sure he won't mind," she teased.

"No, I don't suppose he will," said Lucien. He thought for a moment. "If the boys have chores, Li should as well. Any suggestions?"

"Let me think. When I was her age, I used to help with the ironing. Handkerchiefs maybe?"

"If you think that's best."

"And she could help me with the baking. The boys love to help with that."

"Yes, of course. Don't all children?" he said with a smile.

"I don't know if it's the helping to make it or the eating that they really like," said Jean with a laugh. "Now, what do you have planned for the day?"

"I thought some clothes for Li and myself, so into town."

"Do you know anything about buying clothes for a little girl?" Jean asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Not a thing," Lucien admitted.

"Would you like some company?"

"Your company? Any time, my dear. What about the boys? Do you think they'd like to come, too? I could entertain them while you and Li are looking at clothes."

"I was going to send them over to play with my sister's two, but I'm sure they'd rather spend the time with you," she told him. "Do you know, when they talk about you as opposed to your father they call you 'our Doctor Blake'?"

"Is that right?" Lucien grinned with delight.

She nodded with a smile of her own. "Just be prepared - they'll want to set a date to go fishing with you."

"Understood. Maybe we should look into the purchase of some equipment while we're in town. Rods and hooks and such."

"They'll be so happy. And Li and I could do something together when you and the boys go fishing."

"Perfect," said Lucien. "And when we go, the two of you could join us later for a picnic near the lake."

Jean beamed. This was turning out even better than she had hoped in all her dreams of what life might be like for them once Lucien and Li arrived.

Just then Thomas entered the kitchen, immaculately dressed as always but wearing a sour look on his face.

"Good morning, Doctor," said Jean cheerily, refusing to allow anyone to spoil her wonderful day.

"Morning, Dad," said Lucien.

"It's 'father', not 'dad'," Thomas grumbled. "Is that the way they talk in Singapore? No respect."

Both Jean and Lucien arched eyebrows in surprise. Jean looked at Lucien, who forced himself not to look at her. No reason to involve her in their differences, which had been decades in the making.

"Good morning, _Father_," said Lucien, enunciating each syllable carefully. But there was little of respect in his tone.

Apparently Thomas chose not to hear it. He sat down at the head of the table while Jean put a cup of tea in front of him.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, hoping to defuse the situation.

"Not very," Thomas admitted.

"I'm sorry," said Jean. "The excitement of the day or is something weighing on your mind?"

"Both, I'm afraid."

"If it would be easier for you, Li and I will leave," Lucien said quietly.

"Where would you go?" Thomas scoffed.

"There's a whole world beyond Ballarat, and I've already seen a great deal of it," Lucien reminded him.

"Do you plan to raise that little girl by yourself?"

"Why not? At least I won't send her off to boarding school just a few days after she learned her mother died," Lucien retorted bitterly.

He glanced at Jean and immediately regretted his vitriol. She was staring between him and his father, a horrified look on her face. "That was uncalled for. My apologies," he muttered.

Thomas held up a hand. "No, no. I'm the one who should apologize. I'm sorry. You and your darling girl need to be here. This is your home. You'll stay, won't you?"

Again Lucien looked toward Jean, who gave him a tentative smile and nodded. "Yes, we'll stay, Father. And I am grateful to you for offering." Their differences were not a license to be churlish, he decided, especially with Jean as witness.

"Well, now, that's settled, let's eat breakfast," said Jean. She squeezed Lucien's shoulder as she passed him to call upstairs for the children.

Christopher came in first, an uncharacteristic smile on his face. He turned to Thomas. "Good morning, Doctor Blake." Then to Lucien. "Good morning, Doctor Blake."

"Good morning, Mister Beazley," Lucien replied.

Christopher's smile grew wider at that as he sat down at the table.

Soon after, Jack and Li entered with Jean just behind them.

"You can sit where you sat for dinner last night," Jack advised Li. He stood behind her chair until she was seated, then pushed it in for her.

"Very gentlemanly of you, Jack," Lucien told him. "Thank you."

Jack grinned at him, before taking his own seat.

When they were all eating, Jean spoke to the children. "Would you like to go into town today with Lucien and me? We need to do some shopping for clothes."

"Clothes shopping?" Jack made a face.

Li sat up straighter and looked from Lucien to Jean.

"Yes, clothes for you," Jean confirmed.

Li smiled broadly. When Jack saw that, he said, "I guess it's okay."

"I thought we men could do some shopping of our own," said Lucien. "If we're going to go fishing, we'll need some gear, won't we?"

"Yes!" said Jack, while Christopher grinned at him.

"It sounds like you have a full day planned," said Thomas.

"Hardly, Doctor," said Jean, not wanting him to think she was taking advantage. "We'll only be gone a few hours. I'll get dinner started before we leave and I'll be back well before your first patient is due."

"Oh, my dear, that's not what I meant," Thomas said quickly, with a glance at Lucien, who had schooled his face not to reveal his displeasure.

"Nonetheless, you hired me to do a job, and I intend to do it properly. I'll be back in time," she said firmly.

"Thank you, Mrs. Beazley," said Thomas, and he excused himself from the table.

Waiting just long enough so that it wasn't obvious, Lucien also excused himself to follow after his father. It appeared he had gone into his study and closed the door, probably intending to keep Lucien out as he so often had all those years ago. But Lucien reminded himself he was a man now, and after all he had faced in the prison camp, surely he could go into that room and speak with his father. He didn't want a confrontation, just a conversation.

He knocked softly on the door. "A word, please, father?"

He heard a sigh, then the response. "Come in, Lucien."

He stepped inside. The room had changed little since he had last been in it. "I'm sorry to interrupt," he began, remembering how annoyed his father had always been when he'd barged in here as a boy.

"It's fine," said Thomas. "Did you need something?"

Lucien paused a moment, wondering how to say it without offending the man. "Sir, I think we both know we'll probably always have our differences."

"Yes, probably," Thomas admitted.

"We have different experiences. Different world views, if you will, so we'll find ourselves disagreeing. But it isn't fair to Mrs. Beazley or the children to involve them in our differences." He appealed to his father's sense of what was right.

"Agreed," said Thomas.

"If we need to argue, and we both know we will, we should do it in private."

Thomas waved a hand around the room. "This is as good a place as any."

"Yes, it is. So if either of us feels the need to have it out, he'll ask to see the other in the study." It meant they would be arguing on Thomas's home turf, so to speak, but that was true of the rest of the house as well.

"Very well," Thomas agreed. "Anything else to get off your chest?"

"Not at the moment," Lucien said wryly. "I'll leave you to it."

"Thank you, son. Enjoy your day out. And while you're in town, you may want to stop in at the club and say hello to Cec Drury. He always asks after you whenever I see him."

"I'll make a point of it. Thank you."

Lucien left the room, closing the door softly behind him. He knew there would come a time when he and his father would need to confront their past differences, but for today at least he would follow his father's suggestion and enjoy the day with Jean and the children.

He even looked forward to seeing how Ballarat had changed in the years he'd been away.


	2. Chapter 2

They set off for town as soon as Jean had finished the necessary housework. Since they would be away at lunchtime, she had left some prepared sandwiches for Thomas. He had offered the use of his car, but they decided as it was such a beautiful day they would walk. If Li grew tired, she could ride on her father's shoulders.

Jack chattered constantly as they walked. He pointed out to Li everything that they passed, telling her the names of neighbors and their dogs, indicating the nearest park and the best shortcut down to the lake, showing her where there were fruit trees with windfalls that were safe to eat.

Walking beside Jean, Lucien observed, "He knows more about this neighborhood than I do. You'd think he's lived here all his life."

Jean replied, 'l think he's just pleased that he can act as a big brother. No longer the youngest. Plus he seems to really like Li."

"With what she's been through, Li can certainly use a big brother to look out for her."

The closer they got to the city center, the more people they saw. Lucien was studying them, wondering if he knew any of them from his time spent here, and he didn't notice Li had moved closer to him until she slipped her tiny hand into his much larger one.

He glanced down at her, seeing she seemed quite unsettled, glancing all around somewhat anxiously. He looked to see what was upsetting her, and only then noticed a number of people staring at her, with some even pointing in her direction.

Jean seemed to notice at the same time and without a word she moved to flank Li on the other side, holding a hand to her. The little girl took it and gave her a tentative smile by way of thanks.

Lucien cursed himself for not anticipating that Li's appearance would be an issue with the small-town sensibilities that dominated Ballarat. In Singapore it mattered very little, what with Westerners and Asians living and working side by side. He supposed if he had spent more time in Shanghai and not been so singularly focused on finding his daughter there he might have felt some of what she was now experiencing.

Even Jack noticed it, and he scowled fiercely at anyone who dared to point at his 'sister'. "Why are they doing that?" he asked testily.

"Because Li doesn't look like them," Jean quietly explained.

Jack, who had lived in Borneo and the prison camp near Singapore for most of his young life saw only one real difference. "She's prettier," he said firmly.

"Yes, she is," Jean agreed.

Li smiled shyly at Jack, then at Jean, and whispered, "Thank you" just loud enough for them to hear.

"They only need to get used to her," said Jean, glancing at Lucien who wore a look of concern. "It takes a while for people to accept anyone who didn't grow up here."

"Yes, of course," Lucien said slowly, not completely convinced. The last time he'd been home before the war, he'd paid a visit to the Clasby ladies who had told him a little of the way his mother had struggled to be accepted in Ballarat.

"Just ignore them all," Jean advised. "Soon enough they'll find someone else to gossip about."

Lucien was still concerned. What had he brought his daughter into? But now was not the time to second guess his decision, not in front of the children. Perhaps he and Jean, and even his father, could discuss the situation after the children were in bed

"Well, then, we should decide what we're going to do while we're here," he said instead. "Shopping first, get it out of the way?"

Jean nodded. "The boys and I don't really need anything, since we were here last week to get all their kit for school. I thought Li and I would go to the department store so we can get everything we need in one place, while you gentlemen get whatever it is you need for fishing."

"That shouldn't take long," said Lucien. "With your permission, when we're finished I'll take the boys with me to the Colonists' Club to say hello to an old friend. No drinking for any of us there, but afterwards we could all go to lunch before we head home. And maybe a quick stop at the ice cream parlour?" he suggested, looking down at Jack.

"That sounds lovely," said Jean, while Jack grinned and nodded vigorously.

"Would two hours be long enough for you to get what's required?"

"I'm sure it will."

"Then we'll come back for you in two hours and settle up with the store for the purchases," said Lucien. He pointed to a sporting goods shop a few doors along on the opposite side of the street. "We'll be there or at the club if you need to find me." Just in case things became too uncomfortable for Li or for Jean, he wanted her to be able to reach him quickly.

She squeezed his arm. "We'll be fine," she insisted. "Now shoo, you lot."

Lucien looked a question at Li, wanting to be sure she was going to be all right. She nodded, so he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Have fun, ladies."

This was the same store where Jean had bought clothes for the boys with the help of a lovely saleslady so she sought her out once again. The woman remembered her.

"Mrs. Beazley, it's very nice to see you again. Can I help?"

"I hope so," said Jean. "This is Li, my employer's granddaughter. Doctor Thomas Blake."

"Oh, yes, everyone knows Doctor Blake. A fine man."

"Yes, he is," Jean agreed. "Li has just arrived from China, so she needs almost everything."

"It would be my pleasure to assist you. Now, Li, do you have a favourite colour?"

Li nodded and said softly, "Pink."

"Of course. Now let's see if we can find some pink dresses that you like."

Jean was relieved that the woman seemed to have no prejudices, or at least concealed them very well in the spirit of professionalism. She and Li could shop in peace. She just hoped Lucien wasn't worrying himself sick over what had occurred. She decided to talk to him about it later, when there would be no little ears to overhear.

At the sporting goods shop across the way, Lucien allowed the shopkeeper to explain to the boys about using the rods and reels correctly. In the years since he'd last been fishing, the gear had evolved, so he listened closely to everything that was said. No reason for Christopher and Jack to know that his own experience of fishing had been with much cruder tools.

He bought almost everything the man recommended, hooks and bobbers and a creel. He drew the line at live bait, though, thinking the boys might actually enjoy digging for earthworms. After settling the bill, he asked the shopkeeper to package it all up and hold it for them to retrieve in a couple of hours.

As they left the store, Jack said, "Do you think Li would like to come fishing with us? Maybe we should get a rod for her."

"Your mother thought she and Li could do more feminine things while we fish," said Lucien, "but if Li decides she would rather come fishing, she can use my rod."

"Okay," said Jack, satisfied. "Where to next?"

"Now we're going to visit an old friend of mine at what's called a 'gentlemen's club'," Lucien explained.

"Are we gentlemen?" asked Jack.

"Only in the very loosest sense of the word." Lucien quipped before he looked down at the boys, thinking that he should be setting a good example for them. "But we should always strive to be, like the way you pulled out Li's chair for her. That was being a gentleman."

"So being nice to girls is being a gentleman?" asked Christopher.

"Treating everyone with respect is something a gentleman does," said Lucien. He paused in his explanation as a slender man in a police uniform approached him. "Speaking of gentlemen, Matthew Lawson, as I live and breathe. How are you, my old friend?"

Lawson shook the hand that was offered to him. "Blake. You're looking good, considering everything. When did you get back?"

"Yesterday, as a matter of fact. You?"

"Been back for a while. It ended in North Africa several months ago."

"And right back in uniform. It looks good on you."

Lawson brushed a speck of lint from one of his sleeves. "Thank you. What about you? Getting back into medicine, are you?"

"Most likely. I have to check on what I need to be qualified to practice here."

"You may want to check with the City Free Library on Sturt Street. They should be able to point you in the right direction."

"Thank you, Matthew, I'll do that. You should come by for a drink some evening so we can catch up."

"You're staying with your father?"

"Yes, and Mrs. Jean Beazley. These are her boys, Christopher and Jack."

"I've met Mrs. Beazley. She seems like a fine woman."

"An absolute marvel," Lucien agreed. "Good to see you."

"Before you go, I wanted to ask about an incident that was reported. People said there was a Japanese girl here with someone that was described as looking an awful lot like you."

Lucien was instantly seething. "First of all, she's half-Chinese and half-Australian, not Japanese in the least. And if she had been Japanese, is that a crime now?"

"Simmer down, Blake," said Lawson, glancing down at the boys who seemed equally upset.

"Li isn't a Jap, she's my sister!" Jack insisted, while Christopher stood behind him, nodding emphatically.

"Your daughter?" asked Lawson.

"Yes," said Lucien, his eyes shining with his agitation, "my daughter."

"I thought that might be the case. But with the war and all, people are still on edge about the Japanese, as you'd expect. I'll make sure it gets around that she isn't Japanese and she has every right to be here."

Lucien was ready to protest further, but he realized that Matthew was only doing his job, investigating a complaint. He heaved a deep sigh and said only, "Thank you, Matthew. The offer of a drink still stands."

"I'll take you up on that," said Matthew before he walked away.

Still angry that someone called the police because his daughter had the temerity to walk down the street, Lucien nevertheless put his feelings aside for the time being. He wanted to give Jean and the children a pleasant day.

"Well, now," he said to the boys, "let's go see what gentlemen look like, shall we?"

He led the way up the stairs to the club where his father had been a member for Lucien's entire lifetime. As he reached the top step, there was Cec Drury looking a little older than he remembered but essentially the same.

"A great pleasure to see you, sir," Cec said with a big smile.

Lucien extended a hand to shake with him. "Wonderful to see you, Cec. You look fit."

"Yes, sir, as do you. May I offer my condolences on the loss of your wife. Your father mentioned it."

"He told me you often asked after me. Thank you." He turned to indicate the boys. "These two fine young men are the sons of a great friend of mine. Cec, may I introduce Christopher and Jack Beazley. Gentlemen, this is Mister Drury, whom I've known since I was your age."

"How do you do," said Christopher, just as his mother had taught him.

Jack grinned. "Hello, sir."

"A pleasure, sirs," said Cec, which made Jack's grin grow even wider. "What can I get for you?"

"Thank you, Cec, but we just stopped in to say hello. We're meeting Mrs. Beazley and my daughter in just a few minutes. But while I'm here I thought I'd submit an application for membership. That way we gentlemen can come in whenever we want, right, men?" he said to the boys.

"No need, sir. Mister Patrick Tyneman has already arranged for your membership," said Cec.

"Really?" Lucien was surprised. He had treated Patrick, Susan and Edward in the camps, but Patrick had not been particularly friendly or effusive in his thanks. Maybe he felt a sense of camaraderie over their shared internment. In any case, Lucien supposed he'd better make it a point to thank the man.

"Then we'll be back soon, won't we, gentlemen?"

Cec leaned in to speak quietly. "And if you'd like to bring your daughter or Mrs. Beazley for dinner, I'd be happy to arrange a private dining room for you."

"Thank you, that's very kind of you. Isn't it about time, though, that the board voted to allow women to be guests, if not members?"

"Well, sir, as you know, it isn't my place to decide those things. Maybe you can begin a campaign for that, now that you're a full member."

"Maybe I will. Thank you, Cec. Absolutely lovely to see."

"And you, sir. Sirs."

"Very nice meeting you," Christopher said politely.

"Bye, Mister Drury," said Jack.

As they went down the stairs, Lucien thought that he might bring Jean here on one of the dates they'd agreed they should have. Just the thought made him smile.

They walked down the street toward the department store to meet up with Jean and Li. He had nearly forgotten about the earlier troubles, but when they entered the store where Jean and Li were waiting, he saw tears in his daughter's eyes and Jean was fuming. He hurried to them and swept Li up into his arms.

"What happened?" he asked Jean.

She shook her head. "An ignorant person said something rude. I put her in her place, but I'm afraid it upset Li."

"Are you all right, sweetheart?" he asked Li softly.

"Yes, Daddy," she said barely above a whisper.

"We can go back to the house if you want to," he offered.

She looked at the others. "No, I'm all right," she insisted softly.

He didn't want her to feel that running away was an appropriate solution to problems, but he was afraid that more abuse from the people of this town right now might colour her impressions of Ballarat permanently.

"You're very brave, aren't you?" he said with an encouraging smile for her.

"Very brave," Jean echoed. "And just remember that we're all here with you."

"I won't let them be mean to you any more," Jack insisted. "If they do, I'll... I'll..."

"We'll all tell them they should be ashamed of themselves," said Jean firmly, thinking that the last thing Li needed was any kind of violent confrontation. She glanced sideways at Lucien, not sure how he would react if someone said something directly to Li.

"Yes," he said, touching Jean's arm. "Absolutely right. And so they should be ashamed. Now, let me just settle up with the store and we can go have some lunch."


	3. Chapter 3

With his father and Jean occupied in the surgery and the boys teaching Li about football in the back garden, Lucien had been offered the use of his father's study. He made some telephone calls and wrote some letters, trying to establish his medical credentials here in Australia and also to find resources they might all need to deal with the health consequences they could expect to face from their long imprisonment and malnutrition.

For himself, he fully intended to keep up with the exercise regimen he'd begun on his voyage to Hong Kong, although he would require a space of some kind if he wanted to do calisthenics. He decided he would check out the garage, since his father never seemed to park the car in there. Which reminded him that at some point he would probably need to look into purchasing a vehicle of his own.

He went into the back garden where the children were still playing, but they came running over when they saw him.

"Lucien, can you play football with us?" Jack asked eagerly.

"I'm sorry, not right now," he told them, but when he saw the disappointment on their faces, he said, "How about this? After dinner we'll all help with the washing up, then we'll play football or whatever else you'd like."

Christopher and Li quickly agreed, but Jack, ever the most impatient of the trio, was more reluctant. "Washing up takes _forever_," he insisted.

"Not if we're all helping," Lucien assured him. "Your mother makes us such lovely meals, the least we can do is help her clean up afterwards."

"I suppose," said Jack.

"That's the spirit," said Lucien, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Now, I need a look into the garage."

"Are you going to get a car?" asked Christopher.

"No. Well, not right away, at least. I wanted to see how much room is available." He pulled the door open and found the inside packed with... junk, to his mind. It looked like anything no longer of use in the house had found its way into the garage. He'd never considered his father to be a pack rat, but the contents of the garage might just change that opinion.

"Wow, look at all this stuff," said Jack. The other two just looked around excitedly.

Lucien could see the (now) old-fashioned bicycle he'd ridden as a boy, as well as cricket equipment and boxing gloves. Did his father toss nothing out, he wondered.

"Was all this yours?" Christopher wanted to know.

"The toys and sport gear, yes. As for the rest, I'm not really sure where it all came from. It looks like I have an all-day project on my hands if I want enough space."

"Space for what, Daddy?" Li asked in her soft voice.

"I was thinking I could turn this into a gym, of sorts. A place to exercise."

Both boys' eyes widened at that. "We could help you," said Christopher.

Jack nodded eagerly.

Lucien was fairly certain they'd get bored with the task very quickly, but he'd give them the opportunity. "Thank you, that would be splendid," he told them. "I'll speak with my father at dinner to make sure it's all right with him before we start. And now I'm off to the library for some research. Li, you'll be fine with the boys? I'll be back in time for dinner."

She nodded, while Christopher said, "We'll keep an eye on her for you, Lucien."

"Good man," he said, which earned a slight smile from Chris.

* * *

After spending an hour or more at the library looking into the regulations which allowed a doctor trained overseas to practice medicine in Victoria, Lucien decided that his safest path was to go directly to the Medical Board's headquarters in Melbourne. He would have to arrange an appointment. He decided that would fit nicely into other plans he had for Melbourne anyway. He would discuss all of it with Jean as soon as he had the details.

He tucked the notes he had made into the interior pocket of his jacket, thanked the librarian who had assisted him, then headed for home. He hadn't gone far when he heard someone calling out his name from behind. Turning to locate the source, he saw Patrick Tyneman hurrying toward him. He noted that Patrick had filled out quite rapidly considering they were barely three months removed from the prison camp.

"Hello, Patrick," he greeted the man. "It's good to see you looking so well."

"I'd heard you made it through," said Patrick, assessing him as well. "Just got back, did you?"

"Yes, a few days ago," Lucien confirmed. "Susan and your son are well?"

Patrick leaned closer and lowered his voice. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I wondered if you're planning to practice here, now that you're back in Ballarat."

"As a matter of fact, I was just looking into what that would entail," said Lucien. "It may take a few weeks, though. Is there something wrong?"

"We're all having some... issues, related to what happened in the camps," Patrick said, even more quietly. "I was hoping that, since you know what we all went through, you might be able to help us. Susan is rather reluctant to address it with any of the other physicians in Ballarat."

"If it's anything urgent, you may want to see my father," Lucien told him. "Dad's been doing research on the long-term health effects of malnutrition. Otherwise, if you can wait, I can certainly give you a call as soon as I'm cleared to practice here."

"I think that would be best," said Patrick. "Thank you, Lucien. It's good to see you."

"And you, Patrick. I'll be in touch."

As he walked home, Lucien reflected that their shared adversity had probably made them both much more amiable toward each other than their fierce childhood rivalry might have predicted. He remembered calling Patrick a 'pompous arse' to his face once, and that was mild compared to some of the things he had said to Matthew about the other boy.

* * *

Jean was just putting the serving dishes on the table when Lucien returned. They shared a smile before he excused himself to wash his hands for dinner. She was happy to see how well he seemed to be fitting himself back into life here in Ballarat. She still worried about the mixed reception Li had received, but she hoped that the town would quickly become accustomed to the little girl and move on to other material for gossip.

The three children trooped into the kitchen, Li laughing with the others. Despite the earlier upset, Li seemed at ease here. It was lovely to see her opening up like this.

Thomas followed behind the children and took his place at the head of the table. He nodded approvingly as the children sat down, and a moment later Lucien entered and sat as well. Jean placed the roasted chook in front of Thomas to carve, then took her own seat.

As he carved, Thomas spoke to Lucien. "Did you have a productive day, son?"

"Quite," he replied. "Thanks to Mrs. Beazley's assistance, Li will be one of the best-dressed young ladies in Ballarat." He smiled at his daughter, and she returned it. "Also, I've been checking into what it will take for me to practice medicine here."

"And?" asked Thomas.

"It looks as though a trip to Melbourne is in order. I've written to arrange a meeting with the Medical Board." He turned to Jean. "At the same time I'll be seeing a dentist I've heard about who is becoming an expert at treating those who've been victims of malnutrition. I thought you and the boys might want to come with me and be seen to as well, if Father can spare you for a day."

"Of course. Your health comes first," Thomas told Jean.

"Thank you, Doctor." Jean was already looking forward to another day out with Lucien. She would leave everything in impeccable order ahead of time so that Thomas would have as little inconvenience as she could manage.

The children had a hundred questions about Melbourne, which took up most of the conversation for the rest of the meal. When it was over and Jean stood up to begin clearing away, Lucien stopped her. "We'll take care of this, won't we?"

"You go relax, Mum," Christopher urged her.

She arched an eyebrow in question.

"Yes," said Jack. "We're going to do the washing up, Mum, so Lucien will play football with us."

"Ah, I see." She looked at Lucien, who smiled sheepishly. "Well, then, I've some knitting to see to."

She went into the lounge and sat with Thomas who was reading the newspaper. She tried to ignore the vast amount of giggling she could hear from the kitchen, but as long as there was no sound of crockery breaking she would not intervene.

When the kitchen grew quiet, she heard their voices outside instead. The football match must have begun. The children's laughter made Jean smile.

"Lucien is very good with them," Thomas noted.

"Yes, he is," said Jean fondly. She was surprised to see the look of sadness Thomas wore.

"If I'd been better with children myself, so much would have been different," Thomas sighed. "If he had stayed here in Ballarat for school..."

"You can hardly blame yourself for everything that happened to Lucien," Jean insisted. "The war was going to come no matter what you did. And you know Lucien would never have shirked his duty."

Thomas shook his head. He didn't rebut what she'd said, but she could tell it didn't make him feel any better. She had a feeling only Lucien himself could absolve Thomas of his guilt. She wondered if she should urge him to grant his father that absolution, but since she did not really know all that had happened she didn't feel it was her place. At least not until she knew more.

As it began to get dark outside, the football players wandered in, still laughing over the fun they'd been having. Li and even Christopher were joining in with the laughter. It warmed Jean's heart to see how far they had all come in such a short time, when she considered where they had all been just over three months before. After she sent the children upstairs to get ready for bed, she could not help going over to Lucien for a passionate kiss.

He smiled broadly. "Not that I would ever complain but...?"

"I'm just very happy," she told him. "And very thankful to have you and Li here where you belong."

"In that case," he said, and leaned in to kiss her again.

* * *

Jean was startled out of a sound sleep. Had she heard someone cry out? She listened for a few minutes, but heard nothing but the rain hitting the window panes. Nevertheless, she donned her dressing gown and stepped out of her bedroom.

She checked on Jack first, and he seemed to be sleeping, though somewhat restlessly. She pulled the covers back up over him and pressed a soft kiss to his temple.

Li was next, and she too was sleeping, much more peacefully than Jack, it would seem. Jean smiled down at the petite girl before kissing her forehead.

In sleep, Christopher looked as though he was standing at attention, lying very straight on his back, with both arms at his sides atop the blankets. He looked very much like his father, even though his temperament was much closer to her own. She kissed him, too, and closed his door quietly on the way out.

She glanced toward Lucien's door and hesitated, listening intently. Not a sound: no cries or sobs or even snoring. No reason to disturb him. And no sounds from the direction of Thomas's room downstairs. Maybe the cry she'd thought she heard had been some remnant of her own dream, although she couldn't recall it.

She returned to her own room and was removing her dressing gown when she chanced to look out the window. A movement there had caught her attention. She looked more closely to see what it was, and started sharply. Lucien was standing out in the rain in his pyjamas, not even a dressing gown to protect him. What was he thinking?

Quickly Jean retied the sash on her own gown and rushed downstairs. She pulled an umbrella from the stand beside the front door and opened it as she hurried out to join Lucien.

She stood under the umbrella, watching him for several moments before he became aware of her presence.

"Jean." He said it simply, seemingly not at all surprised to see her there.

"Lucien? Are you all right?"

He paused a moment, as though taking stock before he answered. "Yes, I am now," he said, smiling gently. "You should go inside, Jean."

"Yes, and you should, too."

The rain was easing up. Lucien looked up to see the clouds breaking and the stars beginning to shine through the gaps.

Jean held her hand out to him and he took it. Together they walked back to the house. When they were under cover, he took the umbrella from her and shook it out.

"I'll put the kettle on," she told him.

"Lovely," he told her.

They sat side by side at the kitchen table sipping their tea and speaking quietly so as not to disturb Thomas.

"Now, what's going on?" Jean asked softly.

He stirred his tea for a few moments before he spoke. "It's the rain," he said without looking at her. "The sound of it." He closed his eyes. "I was back there, in the hole."

"Oh, Lucien," she gasped, reaching out to cover his hand with her own.

He clasped hers and lifted it to his lips. "It's all right," he assured her. "I just needed to be in the open for a while. It helps."

"I'm glad," she said, smiling gently at him.

"You help, too. More than anything else.," he told her. He gazed at her lips, leaning slightly toward her.

She leaned forward as well. When his eyes asked for permission, she gave a tiny nod, and they met in a kiss. It started gently, but soon deepened, their tongues entwining deliciously.

"Yes, I'd say you're doing better now," she told him.

"All down to you, my love," he insisted.


	4. Chapter 4

The day for the Great Beazley-Blake Fishing Expedition dawned grey and damp. Not actually raining but with the threat of doing so at any moment. For Li, who had been vacillating between wanting to join the boys in their adventure and her desire to learn baking from Jean, the dark clouds were the deciding factor - she would stay where it was nice and dry. Making Christmas biscuits seemed infinitely preferable to being outside all day in the rain.

"Will we still go if it's raining?" Jack asked Lucien.

Not much relishing the idea of standing around in the rain himself, Lucien still felt compelled to keep his promise to the boys. "Fish do more biting in the rain, easier to catch," he replied.

Jean looked a bit skeptical, but she noted that at least it was warm outside despite the overcast skies. The chances of them catching a cold were low.

"It doesn't look like much of a day for a picnic afterwards, though," Lucien admitted. "I'll tell you what, if it starts to rain in earnest, we'll come back home and find something else to do."

"That sounds like a sensible plan," said Jean. "But first a warm breakfast all around, yes?"

"Lovely," said Lucien. "Thank you, Jean."

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Li?" Jack asked, a pleading look on his face.

"Let it be," Jean said in her non-nonsense tone. "Just because she's smart enough to stay where it's nice and dry, you shouldn't try to make the poor girl feel guilty about it. Besides, I'm sure you'll feel she made the right decision when you come home to a plate of warm biscuits." She smiled at Li.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Li said in her quiet voice. "I like to spend time with you, but I like spending time with Mrs. Beazley, too."

"And rightly so," said Lucien. "Now let's all eat and then we'll be off. The fish are waiting."

The fishermen set out immediately after breakfast. Knowing her boys, all three of them, Jean sent them off with a packet of sandwiches, a handful of biscuits, and a thermos of tea. She kissed them all good-bye, whispering in Lucien's ear, "Please keep a close eye on them around the water."

He nodded and squeezed her hand to reassure her, whispering in return, "Have fun with Li." He kissed the little girl on top of her head and they were out the door.

The early morning air was heavy with mist as they hiked toward the lake, fishing poles and tackle box at hand. Jack proudly carried the bucket with the earthworms they had dug up the night before. "How many fish do you think we'll catch?" he asked Lucien.

"Well, I'd certainly like to catch enough that we can have them for dinner," said Lucien. "We'll just have to see how good a fisherman you are, won't we?"

"What's the biggest fish you ever caught?" Christopher wanted to know.

"Here in the lake, not very big," he admitted. "On school holiday once I went deep sea fishing with a friend. Out on the ocean in a boat. I caught quite a large one there."

"Could we do that sometime?" asked Jack. "Deep sea fishing?"

"Jack," Christopher admonished him.

"Why don't we see how you do fishing at the lake first," Lucien suggested. "Maybe you'll decide you don't like it at all. You'll never even want to eat fish and chips ever again."

"I think we'll like fishing," Jack said firmly. "Doing things with you is always fun, Lucien."

Lucien was touched by the boy's honesty. "Thank you, Jack, that's very kind of you to say. I think doing things with you is fun, too."

"We make a good family, all of us together," Christopher observed.

"Indeed we do," said Lucien. He hoped that soon they would be an actual family by law in addition to being one of the heart, as they were now.

When they reached the lake, they put their provisions off to the side so no one would accidentally knock them into the water. There was an old, short pier extending out from the shoreline. After testing its soundness, Lucien decided they could fish from it. He tied hooks onto their lines for them, in the process cautioning them about safety. He explained that the barbs on the end of a hook meant if it caught on a finger it couldn't be pulled back out, it would have to be pushed all the way through to release it. Both boys listened with wide eyes, promising to be careful.

With the hooks in place, he showed them how to thread the worms on them, and then how to cast the hook out into the water.

"Now what?" asked Jack.

"Now we wait, quietly, so as not to scare off the fish. You may want to give the line a very slight wiggle every now and again. Make the bait look a little more lifelike."

"How do we know if we've caught a fish?" Christopher whispered.

"You'll feel a tug on the line," Lucien said quietly. "When that happens you'll want to give a jerk to the pole to make sure the hook is caught fast, then pull it in to see what you have."

Lucien caught the first fish, Christopher caught the largest one, and Jack caught the most. The younger boy would laugh in delight each time his line was tugged.

"Another one," he called out gleefully, as he started to haul in the line.

"I have one, too," said Lucien, as he concentrated on pulling his own in. His concentration was broken by a loud splash, followed immediately by a shout.

He turned to see Jack thrashing wildly in the water. He knelt and reached out a hand to the boy, but Jack was too panicked to grab it. There was nothing for it but to go in after the boy. The depth of the water was only to Lucien's shoulder, but it was still too deep for Jack's feet to touch the bottom. Lucien toed off his shoes and jumped in. He lifted Jack up into his arms, then stepped over to set him atop the pier. A moment later he was sitting beside the boy with an arm around him.

"I think we've had enough fishing for today," he announced. "Let's pack up and head for home."

* * *

Jean had a delightful morning with Li. The little girl was a very quick study. She asked intelligent questions regarding ingredients and techniques, which made Jean herself wonder about some things. Her own mother's standard response was that it was the way they'd always done it, but Jean knew that wasn't a good enough answer. She thought that perhaps they could find a cookbook that explained the science behind the ingredients. Maybe the two of them could stop at the library to ask when they were in town, and they could learn about it together.

When they were making shortbread, Li wondered about adding ground almonds to the mixture, saying she remembered eating almond-flavoured biscuits before the war. She thought they had been a favourite of her father's. Together they roasted some nuts in a skillet then chopped them finely and Li added them to a portion of the batter. If they turned out to be tasty, Jean suggested they could make a full batch for the upcoming holidays.

They cleaned up the kitchen while the biscuits were in the oven, and Li insisted on helping with the cleanup, too. Then, while they were cooling, Jean pulled out the vacuum to go to work on the rest of the house.

"What can I do to help?" asked Li. "I used to dust the furniture in my grandfather's house."

"That would be a big help," said Jean with a smile, handing her the feather duster.

Li studied it for a moment, then swished it in the air and nodded her understanding. "I used an old cloth at my grandfather's," she explained. "This is more fun."

"Your father suggested you should have some regular chores like the boys do," Jean told her. "Would you like to be responsible for the dusting?"

"Yes, that would be good," said Li. "Thank you, Mrs. Beazley."

"Thank _you,_ Miss Blake," said Jean with a smile.

Li grinned in return.

"Your father told the boys to call him 'Lucien'. Maybe you could call me 'Jean' if you'd like."

"Oh," said Li, her eyes widening. "I think I should ask my father first."

"Yes, please do," said Jean. "I probably should have asked him before I brought it up."

"That's all right. He won't be upset with you," Li told her. "I think he likes you very much."

"I'm glad to hear that. I like him very much, too. I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind. I like living here with you and Jack and Christopher. If you weren't here, I don't think Daddy would want to stay here with just Grandfather."

"I like living here with you and your father and Grandfather, too," said Jean. "And it's nice to have another girl in the house, Li."

Li paused to grin at Jean again before returning to her dusting. But then Jean noticed the little girl seemed to become somewhat solemn.

"Is something wrong, sweetheart?" she asked gently.

Li began brandishing the duster furiously for a few moments before stopping altogether and looking down at her shoes. Jean stopped also and sat down in the nearest chair. She held her arms out to Li, who hesitated only a moment before walking over for a hug.

After holding the girl tightly, Jean said, "What is it?"

"Daddy and Grandfather are upset with each other. Is it because of me?"

Jean gasped. "No, not at all. I promise you. They both love you very much."

"Why don't they like each other?"

"I'm quite sure they love each other," Jean began, wondering how to explain it to Li when she didn't know all of it herself. She should probably ask Lucien about it, and maybe hear Doctor Blake's side of it as well. "I don't know all the details, but I believe it started when your father was just a boy, not much older than you are now. So it has nothing to do with you, I promise."

Li nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Beazley," she said politely. Jean could see she was relieved, but still concerned over the distance between the two men. Yes, she decided, she definitely needed to talk to Lucien about it.

And just then there was rather a loud commotion as the fishermen entered through the kitchen door. Jean was horrified to see both Jack and Lucien thoroughly soaked. She stood staring at them, hands on her hips and one eyebrow arched, questioning.

"Ah, yes, hello, Jean," said Lucien. "We had a bit of a prob..."

"I fell into the lake," Jack confessed. "Lucien saved me."

"Yes," confirmed Lucien. "And you can imagine my surprise to learn that these fellows can't swim."

"Of course, they can't swim," said Jean. "They've never had the opportunity to learn. I can't swim either."

"I see," said Lucien. "I think we need to remedy that as soon as possible, for all of you."

"And just how will we do that?" asked Jean, eyebrow still lifted.

"I'll teach you, of course." When he saw Jean's look of skepticism he deflated. "Or we can see if the public bath offers lessons. The boys really should learn before we go fishing again."

Ever the peacemaker, Christopher held up the string of fish they'd caught. "It was really fun, Mum. We want to go again."

"Yes, Mum. Lucien is a very good teacher," Jack insisted. "Really."

"Then I suppose he can teach us to swim," Jean relented. "I've always wanted to learn, actually."

"And learn you shall," Lucien promised. "Now, after Jack and I get into some dry clothes, I'll teach them how to clean the fish they caught."

"Please do," said Jean. "And once that's done, then we'll let you sample the biscuits Li and I made, won't we?" she said to Li.

"Can't wait," said Lucien.

* * *

It rained off and on for the rest of the day, which made Jean happy that the fishermen had returned earlier than anticipated. She liked having everyone under this roof, safe and secure, where she could keep an eye on them. After dinner, Thomas retired behind his newspaper, Jean picked up her knitting, and Lucien opened a storybook to read to Li and Jack, asking them for "help" with some of the words. Christopher decided the story was too childish for him, so instead he made his way to the piano and began to play.

Lucien heard it and caught Jean's eye. He nodded approvingly as she smiled in return, but before he could ask, the two children clamoured for him to continue the story. He obliged them, while continuing to listen to the piano.

When he reached the end, Jack said, "That was great, Lucien. I like how you do the different voices. Can we do one more?"

"Not tonight," said Jean. "It's bedtime for you two."

"What about Chris?" Jack asked.

"Christopher is older. He can stay up another half hour. Now say good night."

Lucien kissed both of them and wished them a good night, then watched with some amusement as Jack marched over to Thomas and held out a hand for him to shake. Li followed him and hesitantly leaned in to kiss her Australian grandfather's cheek, just as she had used to do with her Chinese grandfather. Thomas accepted the kiss, and patted her on the head. Lucien couldn't help but remember his own attempts to garner some small show of affection from his father when he was a boy. He didn't begrudge any that Li received - with all she'd been through, she had earned any affection she could get - but he couldn't help but wonder what had changed the man so very much.

As Jean disappeared up the stairs to tuck in the two youngest, Lucien sought out Christopher, sliding onto the bench beside him. The boy paused to look at him. "Please continue," Lucien urged him.

He was playing "Don't Fence Me In", a Cole Porter tune recently made into a big hit by singer Bing Crosby. Lucien noticed he was playing by ear, with no sheet music for reference. When the song finished, Lucien said softly, "Bravo. You're very good, Chris. Did you have lessons before the war?"

Christopher shook his head. "I never played a piano until we came to live here."

"Is that right? Well, then, I'd say you have a real gift for it, young man."

"I decided I really liked playing music after you gave us the flutes in the camp," Christopher explained. "I still have mine, and I play it sometimes, but there's something special about the piano. I felt it the first time I touched the keys."

"My father is a virtuoso, you know. A master of the piano. Has he been teaching you?"

Christopher tried to be diplomatic. "Not lessons really, but he showed me about chords and the pedals."

"That's all?" asked Lucien, glaring at his father, who sank down further behind his newspaper."

"It was a big help," Christopher insisted. "I didn't know about them."

"Yes, I'm sure he was a great help," said Lucien. He remembered that Thomas had refused to teach him as well, leaving that chore to Lucien's mother. "I'll be happy to teach you anything I can, but I think we should talk to your mother about getting you a real teacher. Your talent should be nurtured. What do you think?"

"I think I'd like that a lot," said the boy. "Thank you, Lucien."

"My absolute pleasure," Lucien assured him.

Thomas tossed down his newspaper and stood up just as Jean re-entered the room. "I'll be in my study," he announced. "I have a patient with some most unusual symptoms. I want to research what might be causing them."

"Would you like a hand?" Lucien offered. He'd always enjoyed solving medical mysteries, and he'd been told he was quite good at it.

"Not until you have a medical license," Thomas said shortly, walking away.

Lucien felt like he was ten years old, being rebuffed by his father yet again. His face must have reflected his disappointment. Jean walked over to him and squeezed his arm.

"Give him time," she urged. "He's still getting used to the fact that you're a grown man now."

"He has a knack for making me feel like a small child," Lucien said. "And making me resent him just as I did then."

"Don't you think that maybe it's time you told me what happened between the two of you?" Jean asked gently.

Lucien sighed, running a hand over his face. "Yes, I suppose it is," he admitted. "And when I finish, you should probably ask my father for his side of the story. I'm sure it will be quite different."


	5. Chapter 5

Christopher had gone up to bed and Thomas was still locked in his study when Lucien and Jean went to the living room to discuss his difficulties with his father.

"I'm going to need a drink to get through this," he said, going to the sideboard where the alcohol was stored. "Can I get you something?" He looked over the selection. "A sherry?"

"I haven't had a sherry since before the war,' Jean told him. "I used to enjoy one every now and again."

"A sherry it is, then," he said, pouring the drinks and then settling next to her on the couch.

She thanked him and waited expectantly while he took a long pull on his Scotch.

"Where to start," he said slowly. "I suppose the thing that's always been between us is how different we are in temperament. I'm much more like my mother was, or so her friends have told me. Mother was warm, demonstrative, kind. Everything that Dad is not."

"You lost her when you were young," said Jean.

Lucien nodded. "A few weeks after my tenth birthday. It felt as though my whole world had collapsed. My father had never had time for me, so my mother was everything."

"Maybe your father was just a busy man, being a doctor," Jean suggested.

"Not too busy for his friends, or parties, or going to the Colonists' Club. Just too busy for his son," Lucien said, not even trying to hide the bitterness. "Time and again he would promise me that we'd do something together, and almost inevitably when the time came he had something more important to do. Unless it was an activity that allowed him to spend time with his friends, like the boat races on the lake, or taking me with him to the club, anything not to have to actually talk with me."

Jean reached over to squeeze his hand in sympathy.

"When my mother passed, I should have expected what he would do with me, but I was still reeling from her loss when he told me he was sending me away to boarding school. He gave me the news on the day after the funeral, and I was gone a week later."

"Did he say why he was sending you away? And why so quickly?" she asked softly.

"He said..." Lucien paused, remembering. "He said boys from 'my class' should be educated in the 'right kind' of school, whatever that means."

Jean had no idea about such things. "Is it true?" she asked.

Lucien smiled grimly. "My extremely wealthy cousins went to boarding school, yes, in England. They were the only ones I knew of, and they didn't go until secondary school."

"I see," said Jean.

"It was clear to me that he just had no time for me and I was too much trouble for him. I remember one of the first times I came home at school holidays, I wanted to go into Mother's studio to feel closer to her. We'd spent so many glorious afternoons there. I'd watch her paint or she'd teach me to draw. When Father saw me trying to enter this time, though, he forbade it. And just to be sure I wouldn't defy his orders, he locked the room, and it's been locked ever since."

"Oh. I did wonder about that," said Jean.

"Yes, it's as though he wanted to erase her from our lives," Lucien said bitterly.

From behind them came a roar. "That's not true! I loved her!" Thomas shouted.

Both Lucien and Jean sprang to their feet to turn and face him.

"So did I," Lucien countered, "for all that seemed to mean to you!"

Jean stepped between the two men. "Lower your voices, please," she insisted. "The children don't need to hear this, especially Li."

"Yes, of course, quite right," said Lucien more softly, but he continued to stare at his father in defiance.

"I sent you away because I was trying to protect you," Thomas told him.

"Protect me? From what?"

"From my grief, from my pain. You didn't need to see it."

"And my grief? My pain? You thrust me into a world of strangers who had no idea what I was going through. If I cried about Mother they mocked me, did you know that?" he demanded.

Thomas winced.

"I took up boxing as a means to defend myself against the taunts and worse."

"I did wonder," Thomas muttered.

"Wonder what?" Jean asked.

"Why a boy who insisted he wanted to become a physician and surgeon would risk damaging his hands like that."

"Self-preservation became a more immediate priority hence the boxing," Lucien told Jean. "I knew I could only depend on myself. If nothing else, that's what I learned from being on my own since the age of ten."

"On your own? Who do you think paid for all that fancy schooling, just to have you join the Army?" said Thomas angrily.

"Yes, on my own," said Lucien, just as angry. "Even the few times you allowed me to come home during the holidays, you never had time to even ask me about school."

"What was there to ask? I read all the reports. I knew just how bright you were when you bothered to apply yourself."

"And you think that's all a child needs? 'Do your best.' 'Apply yourself.' How about 'Do you have friends?' or 'Are you happy there?' I was just a boy! Maybe I joined the Army to feel like I belonged somewhere."

"You could have joined me here in this practice once you qualified. You could have belonged here," Thomas insisted.

"Here? Where you told me my intended wife wasn't welcome? I haven't belonged here since Mother died," Lucien said bitterly. He stared at his father. "Do you know what I remember most about the day you sent me away?"

"The watch I gave you," Thomas muttered.

Lucien shook his head. "I haven't seen that watch in years. I think I stuck it in a box somewhere the first time I came home after that. No, what I remember like it was yesterday was that you wouldn't even let me hug you before I left, you were that anxious to be rid of me."

"That wasn't it at all," protested Thomas. "I was afraid I'd break down in front of you if I let you hug me. I didn't want you to see that."

"Why not? You think I didn't want to cry? You made me feel guilty if I cried. I was ten years old and had just lost my mother. Shouldn't I have been allowed to cry for her?"

"And I'd just lost my wife!" said Thomas.

"Exactly. We could have consoled each other. We could have acted like a family!" Lucien's voice had risen again, so he cut himself off before saying anything further.

Jean looked from one to the other, shaking her head in dismay. "Why can't you act like a family now?" she wondered. "Family members make mistakes and forgive each other. In spite of all these angry words, it's very clear that you still love each other. And you both love Li. Doesn't she deserve a family? Let go of the past. Start over, can't you? Doctor Blake, you were so worried about your son during the war. Now that he's here, can't you be happy that he survived and came home? And Lucien, you know how much you need a family. Well, now you have one. Make the most of it."

Both men were silent for quite a while obviously thinking about what she'd said.

Lucien spoke first. "She's very smart, is Jean Beazley."

"Yes, she is," Thomas agreed. He held out a conciliatory hand toward Lucien, but the younger man would have none of it. He pulled his father in for a hug, the hug he'd been wanting since he was ten years old. After only a brief hesitation, Thomas returned it, wrapping his arms around his still-too-skinny son and holding him for a long moment.

When they stepped back, the two men exchanged a somewhat shy smile before they both turned to Jean.

"Thank you, Mrs. Beazley," said Thomas. "Thank you for my son."

"Yes, thank you," echoed Lucien. "You're an absolute wonder, do you know that?"

It was Jean's turn to smile bashfully at the praise. "Now that that's settled, would anyone like a cup of tea? I'll put the kettle on."


	6. Chapter 6

The truce between Lucien and his father seemed to hold, much to Jean's relief. The two men behaved courteously toward each other, but with none of the forced politeness of the first few days. They asked about each other's day and seemed to take an interest in the responses. Even Li felt the change and was noticeably more relaxed around the house. Which proved to be fortunate, since the holidays were quickly approaching, and Jean very much wanted the little girl to enjoy her first Christmas in Ballarat.

During the day, Lucien began to spend more time in town. He would disappear each morning, sometimes taking the children with him. When Jean would ask where they had gone, the children would giggle and shake their heads. Jean quickly realized they had to have been Christmas shopping and Lucien had sworn them to secrecy, but she pretended she didn't know. She continued to ask them each time they returned because it delighted her to see the three youngsters bonded together over their secret.

The trip to Melbourne was undertaken with much excitement. As they rode in a taxicab from the train station to the dentist's office, the children exclaimed over the decorations in the shop windows, and Jean was just as impressed although she limited herself to sharing smiles with Lucien instead of the excitement the children displayed.

At the dentist, though, their holiday cheer was considerably dampened by a physical reminder of what they'd endured under the Japanese. There were few cavities as a result of years with no sweets whatsoever, but all three children had weakened enamel from a lack of calcium and the adults were at risk of losing their teeth. The dentist confirmed that the supplements Lucien and Thomas had recommended were a step in the right direction, and he further urged plenty of milk and other dairy in the diet, careful brushing with bicarbonate of soda twice a day, and limiting acidic foods like citrus and tomatoes. And absolutely no soda pop for the children until their enamel had recovered.

As they walked out, Lucien noted the worried look Jean wore. "We knew there would be after effects," he said gently. "We'll just follow his advice as best we can, and deal with whatever happens. We survived - that's what matters most."

"Of course, you're right," said Jean, shaking off the gloom. "Now, what time do you meet with the Medical Board?"

"Very shortly, I'm afraid. I was thinking you and the children might like to visit the Botanic Gardens while I'm engaged. I'll meet you at the front gate afterwards and then we can decide what to do with the rest of our day while we have some lunch."

He saw them into another taxicab before walking the short distance to the offices of the Medical Board of Australia. Luckily all the paperwork regarding his medical degree and qualifications had been in the box at the bank in Singapore so he was able to produce everything the Board requested. His Army certification was a big factor in his favour. The Board assured him that they would place a telephone call to verify his standing with the military, and they saw no reason why he shouldn't receive his Australian medical license by the New Year.

Buoyed by the news, he got into a cab and headed for the Gardens. Along the way he chatted with the driver about possible places they might eat. At the Gardens, he bounded toward the gate and looked for Jean and the children, eager as he was to share his news.

What he saw instantly changed his mood: a red-faced man was standing over the four of them, shaking his finger angrily. Jean appeared equally irate as she kept Li firmly behind her with one hand as the other restrained Jack, who seemed ready to fight the man.

Lucien raced over to plant himself squarely between his family and the man who threatened them. "What's going on here?" he demanded.

"Who are you?" the man returned, his anger dissipating not at all.

Lucien made a quick assessment of the situation, deciding that a man who harassed women and children would be more intimidated by a soldier than a doctor. "Major Lucien Blake," he said. "And you are?"

The man instantly deflated, taking a step back. "Oh."

Lucien glared at the man again before turning to Jean and the children. "What happened?" he asked gently.

Before Jean could explain, Jack spoke up. "That man was mean to Li!"

Jean explained. "He was rude and insulting," she said indignantly.

Lucien scooped the girl up into his arms. She hugged him tightly, burying her face into the side of his neck. He addressed the man again. "Anything you have to say to my daughter, you can say to me," he growled.

"Your daughter? She's a Jap!"

"She most certainly isn't Japanese. Her mother was Chinese, if you must know."

"Japanese, Chinese - same thing," the man muttered.

"Hardly," Lucien said sharply, holding his temper for the sake of the children when he really wanted to show the man a sharp uppercut to the jaw. "In case you weren't aware, the Chinese were on our side in the war. The Japanese killed ten million Chinese people, and millions more died of starvation and disease as a result of the occupation of China." Lucien looked the man up and down, then made a guess about him. "So, tell me, what did you do to help the war effort?"

The man seemed to shrivel up. "I was... I couldn't..."

"No, you couldn't," said Lucien with disdain in his voice. "You can only face down little girls."

He turned his back on the man and held his arm out to Jean as they ushered the children away. Jack continued to glare at the man until he was out of sight.

"Let's move back to Borneo," he said angrily. "People aren't mean there."

Lucien bounced Li gently in his arms until she lifted her head to look at him. "What do you say? Shall we move to Borneo?" he asked gently.

She shook her head. "I like it here, Daddy. With you and Grandfather and the Beazleys."

"Even when people are mean?" Jack asked.

"Yes. Because more people are nice," she insisted. "Like you, Jack."

Jack gave her a bashful smile, but Jean saw that Lucien was still concerned. How could he not be? She knew full well that as a parent he wanted to protect his child from ever being hurt, despite knowing it was an impossible task. How would she feel if the people of Ballarat turned against Jack for some reason? She squeezed Lucien's arm in comfort and solidarity.

"No matter where you go, there will always be people who find a reason to look down on others," Lucien said to the children in a weary voice. "Best try not to be one of them, and be kind to the ones they look down on."

"Very wise words," said Jean. She moved to change the subject. "Now, tell us how you made out with the Medical Board?"

"Well enough that I should be certified to practice medicine by the New Year," he announced.

"Then a celebration is in order," said Jean firmly. "Where shall we have lunch?"

* * *

That evening after the children had gone to bed, the three adults were discussing what had happened to Li yet again when there was a knock at the front door.

"I'll get it," Lucien said, waving the others back into their seats. He opened the door to find Matthew Lawson on the doorstep.

"Thought I'd take you up on the offer of a drink," he said.

"Wonderful," said Lucien. "Come along then. We could use your advice on something anyway."

When they all had their drinks in hand, Lucien briefly described what had happened that day, as Matthew was already aware of the earlier incident in Ballarat.

"They'll come around, at least the people here will, as they get to know Li better. Most of them will, anyway," Matthew insisted. "Just give them a little time."

"Is that what happened with Mother?" Lucien asked his father.

"Yes, for the most part," said Thomas. "There were always a few who wouldn't accept her, but much of that was jealousy, I always assumed."

"And those people will find a reason to look down on others, no matter what," Jean sniffed.

"I suppose you're right," Lucien said with a sigh. He stared down into his whiskey for a long moment, then shook off his mood and addressed Matthew. "How is everything with the Ballarat Police Department, Sergeant Lawson?"

"Not bad, but we do have one problem at the moment." He turned to Thomas. "Part of the reason I'm here, as a matter of fact. The chief superintendent isn't very happy with Doctor Spencer's work as Police Surgeon, and he asked me to see how you'd feel about taking over from him, Doctor Blake. I know you filled in for him a few times when he wasn't available."

"Reluctantly, and only as a favour to Doug," said Thomas. "Not really my cup of tea, I'm afraid. Lucien, what about you? Any interest there?"

"You have your license?" Matthew asked.

"Very shortly," said Lucien. "Exactly what does the job entail, aside from autopsies?"

"Examine the crime scene, determine time and cause of death, perform any tests that are required, that type of thing. I can get you a copy of the handbook, if you're interested."

"Yes, I'm interested. You think your boss would hire me?"

"I can put in a good word for you, son," said Thomas, "if you decide you want the position."

"Thank you, Father and Matthew. Definitely worth looking into."

Jean only smiled. Anything that would help Lucien put down roots here in Ballarat was a positive in her mind, and if it improved his standing in the community, that could only help the town to accept Li more readily.


	7. Chapter 7

Christmas Eve was finally upon them, and with the children's excitement making them overactive, Jean was glad to see it arrive. Thomas thought Lucien was almost as bad as the children, but he said it in a jocular manner rather than as a criticism of his son, so Jean didn't mention what Lucien had told her. The many dismal Christmases he'd spent at boarding school had him vowing to make the most of his holidays now that he had loved ones to share them with him.

Knowing that, and also being grateful herself for the chance to fully celebrate the holiday after so many years of deprivation, Jean was determined to make this Christmas extra special for all of them. She had spent the last week baking, with the enthusiastic aid of her little helper, Li, and now she had turned to the cooking for both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Once again Li was eager to help, despite the pleas from Jack that he required her assistance to beat Christopher at football.

Lucien also offered his services, insisting he couldn't think of anything better than spending time helping his two favourite girls. After some initial hesitation, Jean assigned him to peeling and chopping veg. She figured his training as a surgeon must make him competent to wield a paring knife. He set to without complaint, and even began to hum Christmas carols.

"Why don't you sing them?" Jean suggested.

"Only if you'll join me," said Lucien. "Both of you."

"I don't know all the words, Daddy," Li admitted softly, looking concerned that she might disappoint him.

"Don't worry about that. Just sing the ones you do know. It's all in fun. You'll learn the rest as we go. All right?"

She nodded, with a grin that looked very much like the one Jean had often seen on Lucien's face.

"Well then," he said, and began singing, "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know."

Jean quickly joined in, and Lucien wasn't at all surprised that their voices blended very well together. It was a relatively new song,though, written during the war, so Li just listened to it, memorizing the words.

Next he chose one she might know, as he remembered singing it at his in-laws' home in Singapore before the war. Perhaps Li had sung it with her grandfather as well. "God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay."

Li smiled and quickly joined in, as did Jean. Lucien kept his voice soft, to better hear his 'girls'. They sounded beautiful to him. They _were _beautiful to him. He had never dreamed he could find this kind of happiness again.

When they finished the song, Thomas, who had appeared in the doorway, clapped enthusiastically. Lucien gave a mock bow.

"I seemed to be missing all the fun," he said.

"Join us," Lucien urged, indicating the chair at the head of the table.

Thomas sat as directed and raised his eyebrows in anticipation of the next song.

"Would you like to help me with this one?" he asked his father, then began in a very deep baritone, "Good King Wenceslas looked out, on the feast of Stephen, when the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even."

Thomas's voice, deeper in tone then Lucien's, made a perfect blend, and the two men sang it to the end, even as Jack entered the kitchen to see what was going on. Jean and the children clapped, with Jean's eyes catching Lucien's and beaming with happiness.

"Now it's the turn of the ladies," said Lucien.

"All right," said Jean. She paused in preparing the roast to lean over and whisper with Li for a moment, then the two of them began, "O holy night, the stars are brightly shining. It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth."

As they sang, music from the piano joined them. Lucien and Thomas both mouthed, "Christopher."

The high notes at the end were crystal clear from both Jean and Li, bringing tears to Lucien's eyes.

"Wow!" said Jack, clearly impressed.

"Wow, indeed," echoed Lucien. "Just lovely."

"Thank you," said Jean, blushing slightly as she returned her attention to the roast.

They continued singing, a selection of songs old and new, and when the food preparations were complete and the roast was in the oven, they moved to gather around the piano so that Christopher was more a part of the proceedings.

They continued singing until it was time for Jean to finish getting dinner on the table. Jack and Li went to the kitchen with her to set the table while Lucien and Thomas talked to Christopher about his piano playing. Lucien had begun teaching him how to read music, while Thomas (after a little coaxing from his son) had been introducing the boy to classical music. Christopher drank it all in like a sponge, Lucien noted. It wouldn't be long before they had taught him all they could. He would soon need a real teacher to take him farther along the journey.

The dinner was all Lucien could have hoped for: the food was delicious, the conversation was pleasant, and the laughter was plentiful. As he set down his fork upon the plate, he cleared his throat. "Might I suggest a round of applause for our cooks? Jean and Li, thank you for a wonderful meal."

"Hear, hear," said Thomas while they all clapped.

Jack grinned from ear to ear as he applauded and looked directly at Li, who ducked her head shyly.

When the applause had ended, Lucien said to the boys, "I think it's only fair that we do the washing up, yes? Jean, Father, Li, why don't you go sit down and we'll join you when we've finished."

By this time Jean had learned that Lucien's military training served to make him organized and efficient in getting the job done. Within twenty minutes the leftover food was put away, the dishes and cutlery were in their proper places, and the surfaces were wiped down. All with none of the usual complaints from the boys.

When they were all seated around the tree, Christopher said, "I remember you used to let us open one gift on Christmas Eve, Mum."

"Is that right?" said Lucien. "What do you say, Father?"

Thomas had to smile at Lucien's eagerness, so similar to when he was a boy. "You'll hear no objection from me."

All eyes turned to Jean for the final word on the matter. She threw up her hands. "Why not? As Christopher said, it's a family tradition. Let's sort them into piles for each person, then you can select one to open tonight."

Quickly the children scrambled to organise the gifts into stacks as Jean had directed. Li, who had revealed herself to be very observant, noted that the adults' piles were much smaller than those of the children, with Thomas's being the smallest of all. She walked over to stand beside him and said softly, "Grandfather, would you like some of mine? I don't need so many."

Thomas put an arm around her. She had certainly inherited her father's tender heart. "Thank you, darling girl, but these are just fine for me. I've had many more Christmases than the rest of you, so I've already had many more gifts than anyone else. Besides, they say good things come in small packages, and you're proof of that." He kissed her cheek as she smiled shyly at the compliment. "Now, as the youngest one here, I think you should have the honour of opening the first one."

"Yes, Li should be first," said Jack. "Which one will you choose?"

Li looked at the pile of gifts, then at the members of her extended family. Lucien could see she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings by not choosing their gift. "It's all right, little one," he encouraged her. "You'll open all the others in the morning. No one will be offended if you don't open theirs first."

"All right, Daddy," she said quietly. She reached over to pull out the one from Jack, then looked to see him grinning at her. Very carefully she removed the wrapping to reveal a yo-yo. He had found an old one in the garage a few days before, and after Lucien had demonstrated how to use it, the boy had played with it for hours, impressing Li with the tricks he'd learned.

"I can show you how to use it," Jack offered.

"Thank you, Jack. I'd like that. It's lovely."

He beamed at the praise.

"All right, Jack," said his mother. "It's your turn."

Jack looked at Li with a smile and then chose the one she had given him. He tried to lift it and almost dropped it because it was so heavy. His mouth fell open, and he quickly tore the wrappings away to reveal a pair of dumbbells. Except for their weight, they were almost identical to the ones he'd been watching Lucien use every morning since they'd cleaned out the garage. Jack had been unable to lift the ones Lucien used, so Li had bought him a pair of his own that were considerably lighter. "These are great!" he told Li. "Now I can exercise like Lucien. Thank you."

Li smiled shyly and exchanged a glance with her father, who'd helped her shop.

All eyes turned to Christopher next. He opened the gift from Thomas, which contained several books of sheet music. "Now that Lucien is teaching you to read music, I thought you should have something to practice with," Thomas explained.

"I can't wait to try them. Thank you, Doctor Blake," said Christopher. He began to leaf through them eagerly.

"You're very welcome," said Thomas. "And now I believe it's your mother's turn."

"Oh, that's all right. I can wait until tomorrow," Jean insisted.

Thomas reached over to pat her hand. "My dear Mrs. Beazley, if you don't open something tonight, Lucien will feel obliged to wait as well, and you know how much he wants to open something now." He winked at his son to show him it was all meant in good humour.

"Very well," said Jean. She reached down for a small, flat, square package from Lucien that she'd actually been eyeing since it appeared beneath the tree. Slowly and carefully she peeled away the paper, keeping it intact. Inside was a box that was definitely from a jeweller. She looked questioningly at Lucien, who merely nodded toward the box. Looking more closely, she noted that there was Chinese writing on the bottom, and then in English, the word Singapore.

He saw her startled look and he explained, "I bought it before the war, thinking it might make a lovely present some day, and indeed it has. I found it in the ruins of our home." He didn't want to go into any more detail with Li in attendance.

"I see," Jean said quietly. She opened the box and gasped. An exquisite brooch of gold and green jade lay nestled inside. "Lucien, it's beautiful," she breathed. "I love it." And she did, although she couldn't imagine when she'd have occasion to wear something so elegant.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, his eyes shining with happiness.

She held it up to show the others. Thomas nodded in appreciation. Jack, and to a lesser degree, Christopher, showed little interest, but Li was clearly impressed. She went over and stood next to Jean for a closer look, eyes wide. Once again Jean was grateful for the presence of another female in the house.

Then it was Lucien's turn to open. He had already chosen and held the small package up as he read the tag. "From Jean and Father," he recited, intrigued at the thought of them collaborating on a gift for him.

He opened the paper carefully, and it too contained a jeweller's box. Inside was a somewhat familiar-looking pocket watch. "Is this..." he began.

"Yes, the one your father gave you many years ago," Jean said. "I found it up in the attic when the boys were going through the boxes up there. When I saw that you're wearing waistcoats now, I thought you should have a watch to complete the look."

"I had the mechanism cleaned out, and Jean polished the case by hand," Thomas explained.

After resenting the thing all those years ago, Lucien could now see it for what it was meant to be - a piece of his father's love to carry with him. He noted that Thomas was watching him apprehensively, waiting for his reaction. "Thank you, both of you," Lucien told them, tearing up just a little. "I'll treasure it now much more than I could as a boy."

He looked at Jean, who wore a big smile. He knew how much she longed for him and his father to come together as a real family once more. If that's what Jean wanted, he would do his best to oblige. Li also looked pleased at the rapprochement between the two men, giving Lucien yet another reason to keep the peace.

"Your turn, Father," he said.

"I really don't need to open one tonight," Thomas said, and for a moment Lucien thought he was going to be difficult.

Li had other plans. "You have to, Grandfather," she insisted. "It's only fair."

Ever ready to back Li up, Jack said, "Yes, Doctor Blake. It's only fair."

"Very well," said Thomas. "Li, my dear, you choose one for me to open."

Li was still learning to read English letters, but she knew all the names of her 'family'. She selected a small, flat one. "This one says it's from Christopher and Jean. Mrs. Beazley," she corrected herself.

"Thank you, dear," said Thomas, accepting the package.

Christopher was smiling somewhat bashfully while Jean held her breath that she hadn't made a mistake in judgment.

Thomas removed the paper and turned the article over. He gasped, one hand going to his mouth in surprise. "Oh, my," he said. When he looked up at Jean and Christopher, there were tears in his eyes but a smile on his lips. "Look, Lucien," he said holding it out. "Did you know about this?"

Lucien looked at what he held - an old-fashioned but very clear, framed photograph of Genevieve Blake holding her very young son in her lap. "It's lovely, isn't it? No, I knew nothing about it. Where did it come from?" he asked.

"Christopher found it in one of the boxes in the attic," Jean explained. "He saw the inscription on the back, Genevieve and Lucien, 1913, and showed it to me. I found a frame for it, and we thought you might want it for your desk or your nightstand, Doctor."

"It's wonderful. Thank you very much, Mrs. Beazley and Christopher. I'll treasure it," said Thomas.

"You're very welcome," said Jean, relieved that it hadn't caused him pain. "Now, let's get this mess cleaned up, and then we'll get ready for midnight Mass. Will you join us, Doctor, Lucien?"

"Not me, I'm afraid," said Thomas. "Past my bedtime."

"Lucien?" She knew he hadn't set foot in a church in the weeks he'd been back, but she thought the spirit of the holiday might convince him to attend.

"Please, Lucien?" Jack pleaded.

Li and Christopher also looked at him expectantly. "Very well," he conceded gracefully. "I don't suppose the building will fall down around my ears, it being Christmas and all."

"Me, too?" asked Li.

"Yes, you, too, if you think you can stay awake," said Lucien.

Li and Jack giggled together at the opportunity to be out so late.

"Right, you lot," said Jean, "go get changed into church clothes."

"Jean, why don't you get ready while I clear away here," Lucien told her, since he would need only a quick visit to the loo to be ready himself.

Very shortly they were all dressed smartly and heading out the door after wishing Thomas "Good Night" and "Happy Christmas".

It had been at least a decade since Lucien had last attended mass, but little had changed that he could see. The priest, Father Morton he'd been told, still droned on in Latin, and even though Lucien himself understood the language, he doubted many of the others in attendance knew what was being said. They just knew enough to recite the proper responses by rote, and murmur "amen" in the right places.

When it came time for Holy Communion, Jean was the only one of them to leave her seat and go up to kneel at the front railing.

He whispered to Christopher, "Don't you and Jack partake?"

Christopher shook his head. "We haven't made our First Communion yet. We were too young in Borneo, and they only have it once a year here, in May."

"I see," said Lucien, wondering if he should speak to Father Morton about making an exception for the boys, given the reason why they hadn't had it at the usual age.

Jean returned back down the aisle, her hands folded in devotion and a smile on her face as she approached this family she now had. And they were a family, she realized. She had come to that realisation when Lucien had been arguing with Thomas. Just the thought of him leaving and taking Li had made her feel nauseous. The six of them living in that house, working together and loving each other, comprised exactly what a family was supposed to be.

As she slid back into her place in the pew, her eyes caught Lucien's and she knew she was right.

Her mood was jubilant and buoyant as they walked out, stopping to thank Father Morton and wish him a happy holiday. When they were approaching home, however, she noticed that Lucien seemed to be getting nervous, and the closer they were, the more anxious he seemed to become. Jean had no idea what was going on in his mind, and she was reluctant to ask in front of the children, despite the fact that Li was sleeping atop his shoulders and Jack was nearly so as he walked. She tried to ask wordlessly, lifting an eyebrow when she caught his gaze on her, but he merely gave her a strained smile. Something was up, most definitely.

He carried Li straight up to her room, removed her hat, dress and shoes, and slipped her between the sheets without waking her. Jean had to nearly drag the half-asleep Jack up the stairs and help him into his pyjamas while he wearily protested that he wasn't tired. Christopher, on the other hand, merely wished them both good night and retired to his own room.

When Jean returned downstairs, she found Lucien sitting beside the Christmas tree and staring off into the distance. She cleared her throat to alert him of her presence, and he nearly jumped into a standing position. Perhaps now she could find out what had him so nervous.

"Cup of tea?" she asked. Clearly they were both wide awake despite the hour.

"Um, no, I don't think so, but thank you. Jean, would you mind sitting down?" he asked, indicating the couch.

"All right." She herself was nervous now, so she perched on the very edge of the cushion.

"Right. Maybe you should... Oh, never mind. What I'm trying to say is..." He paused and removed another jeweller's box from the inside pocket of his suit coat. With the small size and the shape of the box, there was no mistaking what it held.

He cracked it open and held it out to show her. "This belonged to my mother."

Jean gasped. The ring was absolutely breathtaking, with its brilliant stones and filigree work. "Oh, Lucien," she breathed.

"I know you wanted to wait, and there's no need to wear it now, but I wanted you to have it, and when you're ready, you can let me know by putting it on your finger."

She stared at the piece that had to mean a great deal to him, and she remembered the thoughts she'd had in church. Was there really any reason to keep waiting? She knew how they felt about each other, and how all three children felt. Time was not going to change any of that.

"How about you putting it on me instead right now?" she said quietly, extending her hand to him.

"Really?" he asked, not quite believing it.

She nodded. "Really, my love. It's time we made our commitment formal, don't you think?"

"I can't think of a better Christmas gift," he said, sliding the ring on her finger, then looking down at it before lifting her hand to his lips.

"Neither can I."

They leaned together for a long, joyous kiss. When they finished, she felt like her face might break from the enormous smile she couldn't prevent if she'd wanted to.

"And think what a lovely gift it is for the children as well," she said, almost giddy with happiness.

"Li will be so delighted."

She nodded her agreement. "And I can just imagine Jack."

"Christopher will give that little smile of his, but he'll be just as happy," said Lucien.

"Yes, but not nearly as happy as I am. I love you, Lucien Blake."

"And I love you, Jean Randall Beazley. Happy Christmas indeed."


	8. Chapter 8

Jean knew she'd never had a happier Christmas. After so many years of deprivation, the children were grateful for each gift they received and appreciated the thought and care with which it had been chosen. Thomas had spent many lonely Christmases, and showed genuine delight at having his big empty house finally become a home once more. And she and Lucien had shared the news of their new status, to the delight of all the others.

The food tasted even better than usual at dinner. Thomas had provided the crackers, which the children loved. Li giggled at seeing her grandfather in his paper crown, while Jack collected all the jokes and riddles to memorise. Christopher's toy from his cracker was a tiny piano, causing Jean to ask Thomas how he'd managed to arrange that. The doctor only smiled in response.

As Lucien tucked Li into bed that night, she said, "Daddy, I love Christmas."

"It was lovely, wasn't it? Do you have a favourite of all your gifts?"

She thought for a moment before nodding. "My new family. I love them all." She paused. "Daddy, do you think Mrs. Beazley would mind if I called her 'Mummy' now?"

Lucien felt his heart swell to contain all his happiness. "I think she would like that very much, little one. You know, she's always wanted a daughter, and she thinks you're just about the best one she could ever hope for."

Li smiled shyly and held her arms out for a hug, which Lucien was only too happy to provide.

"Now, you sleep well, my little princess. Happy dreams."

"Good night, Daddy."

He left the door ajar and met Jean in the hallway as she was coming out of Jack's room.

"Li asked me if it was all right if she calls you 'Mummy'," he whispered. "She barely remembers her own mother now. I told her it was fine. You don't mind, do you?"

"Mind? I'm thrilled," said Jean, beaming. "I'll just pop in to say good night."

"And I'll look in on Jack."

Jean peeked in to see Li was waiting for her. "Good night, sweetheart," she said, bending down to kiss her forehead and smooth down her hair.

"Good night... Mummy. That's all right, isn't it?" Li asked anxiously.

"It's more than just all right. It's one of the best Christmas gifts I've ever received," Jean assured her. "Sweet dreams, my girl."

Jean was still smiling broadly as she and Lucien walked downstairs.

"Best Christmas ever," Lucien said, pecking her on the cheek. "Thank you, Jean."

She wiggled her ring finger. "Thank _you, _Lucien."

Thomas was seated in his favourite chair in the lounge while Christopher was in his favourite seat as well - the piano bench. He was working on his own version of 'Silent Night', but after a few minutes he came in to wish them good night. With a kiss from Jean, a hug from Lucien and good wishes from Thomas, the boy disappeared upstairs.

Lucien poured drinks for the three of them then sat beside Jean on the couch.

Thomas promptly raised his glass. "To the two of you," he toasted. "You've made me very happy to know that you'll be looking out for each other, and for those three precious children. All my good wishes for a long and happy future together, preferably right in this house, at least for a while."

"Thank you, Father," said Lucien.

"Please, call me 'Dad' if you'd like," Thomas urged. "I don't know what I was thinking that first morning after you returned, being so rude and surly."

"Maybe you were just a bit overwhelmed by everything," said Jean.

"Hardly surprising," said Lucien.

"Thank you, that's very generous," said Thomas. He glanced at the ring on Jean's finger, then back at Lucien. "Your mother would be so proud of you, son, of the man you've become. I know I've never said that before, but it's true. And, Mrs. Beazley, she would have loved the idea of having you as a daughter."

Lucien and Jean exchanged a look of surprise, or, in Lucien's case, shock. This was hardly the father he'd always known.

Jean spoke first. "Thank you, Doctor. That's very kind of you to say."

"Yes, Dad, thank you," said Lucien. "It means a lot to me to know Maman would have been proud."

"She would have been," said Thomas. "Just as I am."

Lucien had to swallow a lump in his throat. "I think I've been waiting my whole life for you to say that," he said quietly.

"Then I'm a fool for not having told you many years ago," Thomas said sadly. "All the time we've lost." He shook his head, then placed his empty glass on the table and stood up. "I'm sure you two have plenty to discuss, so I'll just say good night, and thank you for making this such a lovely holiday."

"Good night," they both echoed.

When they had heard his bedroom door close, Lucien slid closer to Jean and put his arm around her. She smiled at him. "Did you want to 'discuss' something?" she teased.

"I think he was referring to wedding plans," said Lucien, "but we can 'discuss' anything you'd like." He gave her a quick kiss.

"Mmm. I think I'd like to 'discuss' _that _in more detail," she murmured.

"Definitely more detail." He leaned in and put his arms around her as his lips moved hungrily over hers.

When they finally came up for air, Jean sighed happily. "Detail is very good."

"Indeed it is. However, we probably should decide when we want to get married. People will ask when they see the ring, I'd imagine."

"Yes, you're right," said Jean, admiring yet again how it looked on her finger. It really was beautiful. "Do you have any thoughts on when you'd like to have the wedding?"

"I'd _like _to have it tomorrow, but I don't suppose that's very practical," said Lucien.

"No, the Catholic Church requires at least six months' notice." She paused, her eyebrows arched. "We will be married in the Church, won't we? I just assumed..."

"If that's what you want, my dear."

"You know we'll have to take classes before hand, and have the banns read out at Mass?"

"Yes, I know. I figure that it's a small price to pay for a lifetime of happiness with you."

Her smile brightened at that. "Well, then, I think we should plan on the end of June, if Father Morton has an opening then, all right? I'll set up an appointment to speak with him.

"Perfect," he agreed.

"Of course, all the children should be involved. Li as flower girl? Jack as ring bearer?"

He nodded his agreement.

"You weren't planning to ask your father to be best man, were you?"

"I hadn't really thought about it. Why do you ask?"

"I thought I might ask him to give me away, unless you think it isn't a good idea," said Jean.

"I think it's a marvelous idea, and I think he'd be flattered. He really should be a part of the ceremony."

"Yes, I think so, too. My sister Mary will be matron of honour, of course. Best man?"

"I suppose Christopher is a little too young for the role?" Lucien said hesitantly.

"Maybe he could be a kind of junior best man," Jean suggested. "We could run it past Father Morton."

"I don't really know that many men in Ballarat now," he admitted.

"Not surprising, since you've only just returned after many years away. There's plenty of time to decide on that, but I'm going to need to start on the dresses right away."

"Dresses?"

"For Li, Mary and myself, yes."

"You're going to make the dresses yourself?"

"Yes, of course. It's the only way to be sure they're exactly what I want and that they fit perfectly. I make most of my own clothes, Lucien."

"Well, now I'm even more impressed with this clever woman who's going to be my wife," said Lucien, and he leaned down to kiss her again.

* * *

Boxing Day dawned warm and sunny. Jean took advantage of the weather to spend time with her flowers in the sunroom immediately after breakfast. She heard a car pull up outside but ignored it, figuring Lucien or Thomas would come to get her if she was needed. A few minutes later, Lucien appeared. "Jean, Matthew Lawson asked if I wanted to go watch the cricket with him. I thought we could take the boys with us, introduce them to the sport."

"Thank you, Lucien. That's very thoughtful of you," said Jean.

"Li said she'd rather stay here with you, though, if that's all right."

"I'm sure we can find something to do together. You go, and have fun."

He kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Jean. Oh, and Dad is off to the Masonic Lodge, said he won't be home for lunch. So it looks like you ladies will be on your own for most of the day."

This was the perfect opportunity, Jean decided. She'd been wanting to make a dress for Li, and with all the boys out of the way, she might be able to get it done in one go. If Li approved the idea, of course.

She quickly finished deadheading the flowers and went looking for Li, whom she found in the lounge reading the Winnie-the-Pooh book Jean had given her for Christmas. At the rate her reading was improving, Li would be ready to start school by the time the summer holiday ended.

She looked up and smiled when Jean entered. "Thank you for my book, Mummy," she said. "Pooh is my favourite."

"I thought he might be, and you're very welcome," said Jean, still thrilled that the little girl was calling her 'Mummy'. "Now, with your father and the boys out for the day, I thought we might do something special."

Li sat up straighter and waited expectantly.

"If you'd like, I'd love to make you a new dress. A sundress."

"You can make clothes?" asked Li, fascinated.

"Yes, I make most of my own. I can show you how it's done while we make your new dress. Does that sound good?"

Li nodded enthusiastically.

"I have some material, but if you don't like it, we can hold off until tomorrow when we'll go into town and find something you like better. Come with me," Jean said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Carefully Li marked her place in the book and placed it neatly on the bookshelf before following Jean. They went up to Jean's bedroom where she kept her fabrics, her sewing kit, and the pedal-operated sewing machine she'd bought second-hand. It replaced the one she'd had to abandon in Borneo when the Japanese had arrived and sent her and the boys to an internment camp. She'd lost her home, most of her possessions and three years of her life, but she'd found Lucien. They had all paid a heavy price, fully earning the happiness they now enjoyed.

She pulled a flat cedar box from underneath the bed, and from it she withdrew several yards of a delicate cotton material, cream-coloured with tiny, pale pink flowers scattered across it. "What do you think of this?"

"Oh," said Li, looking for permission then reaching out to feel it. "I love the flowers." She paused and a faraway look crossed her face. "I think I remember, before the war. Daddy would take me out to the back garden and tell me the names of all the flowers."

Jean smiled at the sweet memory. "I didn't think your father knew the names of any flowers, except maybe some medicinal ones."

Li giggled. "I think he made them up. Silly names to make me laugh."

"That sounds like him," said Jean, falling even more in love with the man, if that were possible. "So this fabric is good for a sundress then?"

"Yes, thank you," said Li.

"Good." Jean reached for her sewing basket. "I thought we could edge the collar and maybe the armholes with some of the same ribbon I used on your lampshade and for your Teddy's bow," she said, showing Li the spool of pink ribbon.

"You did that?" asked Li, her eyes wide with wonder.

"I wanted to make your bedroom pretty for you," said Jean.

"But you didn't even know me yet."

"I knew your father, and how much you mean to him. I tried to give you the kind of room I wanted when I was your age."

Li was not normally an impulsive child, circumstances thus far in her life had required her to be cautious, but she threw her arms around Jean and hugged her. "Thank you. I'm so glad Daddy brought me here to live."

"I'm so glad he did, too," said Jean, hugging her back. "Now, we should get busy. If all goes according to plan, you can wear your new dress later this afternoon when your father and the boys come home."


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: This chapter takes place on the same day as the previous one. What were the "boys" up to while Jean and Li were making the sundress?_

"Have you ever been to a cricket match?" Matthew asked the boys trying to get them to warm up to him.

Jack shook his head. He had maneuvered to keep Lucien between himself and Matthew. Christopher was on his other side. Lucien looked down at Chris and saw that he looked embarrassed. "What is it?" he asked the boy gently.

Christopher hesitated, then said softly, "My father told me cricket was for toffs."

Jack's eyes widened at that. "Are we toffs now? What's a toff anyway?"

Lucien managed to stifle his smile, but he could see Matthew smirking. "Perhaps you'd like to explain it to Jack, Matthew," he said. "I'm sure you've used the word a time or two." In fact, Matthew had used to call him that rather frequently when they were boys, usually after Lucien had bested him at some game or other. Lucien felt a sense of comfort in how quickly the two of them had resumed their friendship after so many years apart. It was so easy for them to tease each other just as they had in what seemed a lifetime ago.

Matthew glared at Lucien. "A toff is, well, a toff is someone like Lucien, here," he said smugly.

"Oh," said Jack. "I thought it was something bad, but if Lucien is one then it must be good."

It was Lucien's turn to look smug, but he didn't want the boys to go using the word incorrectly or inappropriately. They needed a better explanation. "It's actually a slang word for someone who was born well-to-do or who is rich or wears fancy clothes."

Jack looked down at his shorts and t-shirt. "I don't think I'm a toff," he said somewhat uncertainly.

"No, I'd say you aren't a toff," Lucien reassured him. "I think your father was probably a fan of football, yes, Chris?"

"Yes, he took me to a football match on the base where we lived," said Christopher.

"He must have said that about cricket because he just happened to like football more. It isn't just toffs who like cricket. For instance, Matthew likes cricket a great deal. You aren't a toff, are you, Matthew?"

"Me? No, I'm definitely not a toff," Matthew confirmed. Just loud enough for Lucien to hear, he muttered, "You, on the other hand..."

Lucien ignored him. "I'll bet your cousin Danny plays cricket," he continued addressing the boys. "Danny isn't a toff, is he?"

Both boys giggled at the idea that Danny Parks might be a toff.

"Then I think that settles it."

Christopher spoke up. "You play cricket with a bat, don't you?"

"That's right. You try to strike a ball with the bat," said Lucien.

"Is it like baseball?" asked Jack.

Matthew was flabbergasted. "You know about baseball but not about cricket?"

"Georgie taught us to play baseball," said Christopher.

Lucien explained. "George was one of the other boys in the camp. As I recall, his mother was an American writer and his father was a British official. You can imagine that there wasn't much in the way of sporting equipment or toys to be had there so they made do with what was available, so baseball was easier than cricket."

"Yes, sorry," said Matthew. "It's easy to forget."

Lucien understood. It had been a whole other world, difficult to imagine if you hadn't been a part of it. "As for your question, Jack, cricket is only a very little like baseball. One player, the bowler, tries to throw the ball past the batter, while the batter tries to hit it so that the other team can't catch it. But there's much more to it. We can explain as the match unfolds."

They arrived at the local cricket field where the match was already underway. Matthew secured them seats that were set somewhat apart so that they could explain the match to the boys without disturbing the others in attendance. He noticed, though, that both boys made sure Lucien was between them and him. When the boys went over to check out what was on offer in terms of drinks, Matthew addressed the issue with Lucien.

"Did I do something to upset them? They seem, I don't know, afraid of me, maybe."

Lucien was tempted to make a teasing retort, but he could see that his old friend was genuinely concerned. "I suspect it's only that they usually see you in uniform. They haven't had particularly positive experiences with men in uniform," he explained.

"What about you and the others on our side? Weren't you in uniform?"

"Only for the first year or so, after which they'd deteriorated so much you could hardly call them uniforms. Trousers cut off into shorts; singlets when we wore shirts at all. The only ones wearing actual uniforms were the guards."

"I see," said Matthew. "Understandable then, I suppose."

"I'll have a chat with them about it, remind them their father wore a uniform. We can't very well have them afraid of the police," said Lucien. He was keeping an eye on the boys as they stood patiently in the drinks queue, Jack gesturing wildly with his hands as he tried to explain something to Christopher.

"Especially not if you become Police Surgeon," Matthew pointed out.

Lucien's attention quickly snapped back to his friend. "Anything more on that?"

"The Chief Superintendant, Doug Ashby, wants to meet with you as soon as your medical license comes through. I understand your father has put a bug in his ear about how good you'd be at it."

"Really? I'll have to thank him," said Lucien. "What's he like to work for, this Doug Ashby?"

Matthew grimaced. "He's a tough old bird. He made my life hell when I first got back and returned to the force, but now I can see that it's just his way of seeing who he can trust to do the job. Kind of an initiation."

"So I can expect the same if I'm doing the job?"

"Maybe." Matthew shrugged. "But since he's a friend of your father's he might give you a break. Or be even harder on you. Difficult to tell which with him."

"In any case I'm going to need to find a job soon. Not that I don't enjoy spending days with Jean and the children, but if I'm going to be married soon, it's time I got back to acting like a responsible adult."

"What's this? You and Jean? Congratulations, mate. You're a lucky man, but God only knows what she sees in you."

"Believe me, I've asked myself that same thing on a daily basis."

"Do the boys know about the marriage? Wouldn't want to put my foot in it if they don't."

Lucien nodded. "We told the combined family yesterday. We'd like to be married in June, if Jean can get Father Morton to agree."

"Another tough old bird, but from what I've seen of Jean, she'll bring him around. So, a church wedding, eh?"

"It's what Jean wants, and I can hardly deny her that. I'll probably need some moral support to get through it, though. Care to be my best man?"

"Thought you'd never ask," said Matthew with a grin.

"You'll have to share the job with Christopher, though."

"Is that right? Well, I'm sure it'll take the two of us to keep you in line anyway. We'll have to go out and celebrate one of these nights."

The boys returned with cups of lemonade all around. They sat down, and Lucien began to explain what was going on in the match. Being familiar with the particular players, Matthew could tell them what to watch for. As the day wore on, the boys felt more comfortable and began to loosen up, although Jack still seemed to bristle if Matthew made a joke at Lucien's expense. Soon enough Matthew caught on and tried to restrain himself.

When a new player began to bat, Matthew said, "Look sharp now. This bloke is very strong and could hit the ball anywhere."

Sure enough, very shortly he whacked the ball solidly and sent it hurtling toward a crowd of spectators, the Tyneman family among them. Lucien watched as Patrick grabbed his son's arm to pull him out of the way, but Michael had been conversing with another man and turned to look at the last second, too late to avoid being struck. The cricket ball hit him squarely in the front of the neck and he fell to the ground.

At once Lucien started towards him, the boys and Matthew following in his wake. By the time he reached Michael, Patrick was crouched beside him and loosening his collar as Michael gasped for air. When he looked up and saw Lucien, Patrick said, "Thank God you're here, Blake. Help him, will you? He's choking."

Lucien knelt on Michael's opposite side and could see the problem immediately. "It's a tracheobronchial injury, er, his windpipe has been crushed. He'll need a tracheotomy right away."

"Can you do it?" Patrick demanded.

"I'm not yet licensed..."

"I'll deal with any of that. Just help my father! Please, Blake."

Lucien nodded. "I'll need a scalpel - a knife of some kind - and something to act as a tube."

Matthew handed over his pocket knife. "Will this do?"

Lucien nodded. "Some alcohol to disinfect it?" He could see that Michael was already growing pale from lack of oxygen. Very soon the damage might well be irreversible.

Patrick produced a flask. "Here. Now what about the tube?"

Christopher had been following it all closely. With some reluctance, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small pan flute Lucien had given him in the POW camp. "Can you use this?" he said hesitantly.

Lucien knew how much Christopher prized the instrument. It had inspired his love of making music. He met the boy's eyes to be sure Chris knew that he was aware of the sacrifice. "Thank you," he said softly. "Good man. Matthew, can you please take it apart. I think the middle pipe should be about the right size."

After Matthew had cut through the bindings, he handed the knife to Lucien, who poured Patrick's whiskey over it liberally. "Do the same with the tube," he said, handing the flask to Matthew as he probed with his fingers along Micheal's neck to locate the trachea below the injured area. Carefully he inserted the point of the knife and opened up a hole just large enough to insert the end of the tube. Within seconds Michael was drawing in air through the new passageway, and his colour was beginning to improve.

"Ambos on the way," called out another man.

"This should hold him until they can patch him up in hospital," said Lucien.

"Thank you, Blake. Lucien. I won't forget this," said Patrick. He turned to Christopher. "And you, young man, that was very quick thinking on your part. Thank you. Your father would be very proud of you."

Christopher looked down at his shoes, embarrassed by the attention. "You're welcome," he said very softly.

Once Micheal was safely on his way to hospital, the remainder of the cricket match was called off, and the crowd began to make their way homeward.

"Most cricket matches aren't quite that exciting," Matthew noted drily.

But he got nary a smile out of the others. Jack was still shocked at what he had just witnessed. Christopher was mourning the loss of one of his most prized possessions. And Lucien knew he'd done the right thing in saving a life but wondered if the medical board might see it differently. Nothing he could do about it now. Instead he focused on the sacrifice Christopher had made.

"I'm very proud of you," he told the boy. "I know how much that meant to you. And Mister Tyneman was right. I never knew your father, but I can promise you he would have been very proud as well."

When Christopher looked up, there were tears in his eyes. "You said you needed it. I couldn't let that man die."

"And he might well have died without your help."

Jack could see how upset his brother was. "You can have my flute, Chris," he said. "I don't need it any more."

Lucien felt tears rising in his own eyes. He hadn't thought he could love these two boys any more than he already did, but this day had proved to him otherwise.


	10. Chapter 10

Li twirled around in her new sundress to make the skirt flare out as she ran her fingers along the smocking across the upper part of the bodice.

"Well?" Jean asked her.

"It's perfect," Li declared. "Thank you, Mummy."

Jean couldn't help the smile that still arose each time Li called her that. She could hardly wait now for the wedding to see them all officially become a family. "You helped make it," she reminded the little girl. "Now let's clean everything up here. Your father and the boys should be home soon."

Sure enough, as soon as she finished closing up the sewing machine into its cabinet, she could hear them coming in the door. Jack was talking excitedly about something or other. She wondered if cricket was now his latest passion. She thought they might have to board up the windows facing the back garden to protect the panes from errant cricket balls if that was the case.

Jean and Li went downstairs to meet them, and Jack's torrent of words came to an abrupt halt when he saw Li.

"You look very pretty," he told her.

"Indeed you do," Lucien echoed, before meeting Jean's eye and nodding toward the new dress. "Is this your handiwork?"

"Mine and Li's. We think it turned out very well."

"I'll say," said Jack.

Jean noticed that something was not quite right with her newly returned boys, however. "Did something happen at the match?" she asked.

"Lucien saved a man's life!" Jack told her. "And Christopher helped."

"Really?"

Lucien briefly told her what had happened, downplaying his own role as he emphasized the sacrifice Christopher had made.

"I'm very proud of both of you," Jean declared. "Will Mr. Tyneman be all right?"

"He should be, but I may just take a run down to the hospital to see for myself, once Dad gets back with the car."

"You won't get into any trouble, will you, for operating on him before your medical license comes through?"

"It was an emergency, so that should be a mitigating factor, but to be on the safe side, I was thinking I'd pay a visit to the Medical Board in Melbourne tomorrow, present the facts to them in person. Maybe Christopher would like to join me, since he played a principle role in the proceedings?"

From the look Lucien gave her, she knew he had something additional planned, something to reward the boy for his generosity no doubt. "What do you think, Christopher? Would you like to help Lucien out again?"

"All right," said the boy. "I can tell them what happened if you think it will help."

"I'm quite sure it will. We'll catch the early train in the morning, be back for dinner."

"And now," said Jean, "I need to get busy with tonight's dinner. Could I have some helpers?"

Li held up her hand eagerly, and seeing that, Jack quickly did the same. "I have to do one thing first, though," he said before racing up the stairs. He returned quickly and handed his little pan flute to Christopher. "It's not the same as your own," he told his brother, "but it's almost as good."

"Thank you," said Christopher, accepting his brother's offering. "You can have my car, if you want."

"Thanks," said Jack. When Lucien had made the toys for them in the prison camp, Jack had chosen the lorry over the racing car because he was familiar with the lorries that delivered supplies but could hardly recall seeing cars before the war began. Since then though he'd had the chance to ride in a couple of automobiles in Ballarat and decided he liked cars even better than lorries. He had been eyeing Christopher's car for some time.

Jean was touched by the children's kindness toward each other. She felt she must be doing something right, raising them to behave in this manner. And of course the unfailing kindness of their hero, Lucien, set a good example for them to follow.

She kissed them both, then returned to the matter at hand. "Matthew, you'll stay for dinner?"

Matthew had been lingering in the background, watching the way the family had already blended together, and perhaps feeling just a touch of envy, but knowing in his heart that Lucien had earned all of this in the most difficult way imaginable.

"Thank you, Mrs. Beazley, I'd like that."

"Please, call me Jean," she insisted.

"All right, Jean, thank you."

Lucien felt it was a good time to tell her his other news. "Jean, Matthew has agreed to be best man at our wedding." He glanced down at Christopher. "Or rather, Senior Best Man. Between the two of them, I'll be well looked after."

"Just get him to Sacred Heart, on time and with the rings. That's all I ask," said Jean.

"We can do that, can't we, Christopher?" said Matthew.

"I can help, too," Jack piped in. "I'm going to take the rings."

"Indeed you are," said Lucien. "We couldn't get married without you."

"And Li?" Jack persisted.

"Of course Li, too," said Jean, putting an arm around the girl. "What would a wedding be without flowers?"

"I don't know," said Li quietly. "I've never been to a wedding."

"Me neither," said Jack, "but it's fun, right?"

"After the part in the church, there's a big party," Matthew told them. "Lots of food and music and dancing. You might need to get Lucien to teach you how to dance."

Lucien could see his old friend was making a real effort to win the boys over, and it seemed to be working. All three children giggled at the idea of dancing, but perhaps dancing lessons were actually a good idea. Especially if he could get Jean to help him demonstrate the steps. Any opportunity to hold her in his arms was welcome indeed.

"Just so you know, Matthew" he said, "your role won't be very difficult. There is absolutely nothing that could keep me from being in the church on time to marry this amazing woman." He put his arms around her and once again the children giggled.

"Hold that thought until later," she whispered to him. Aloud she said, "All right. Dinner." And she herded her two helpers into the kitchen before her.

Lucien offered Matthew a drink and was just pouring the whiskey when Thomas arrived home.

"Drink, Dad?" Lucien held up the decanter.

Thomas nodded. "Yes, please. And just so you know, you're the talk of the town, Lucien," he announced.

"Oh?"

Thomas accepted the glass held out to him. "Yes, they say you saved Michael Tyneman's life at the cricket today. Bill Wallace stopped in after he'd treated him at hospital and said you'd done a first rate job. Michael should be just fine. Well done, son."

"Thank you," said Lucien.

"And Doug Ashby was most impressed when he heard about your quick thinking, too."

"I understand that you put in a good word for me with him, about the Police Surgeon position."

"Yes, well, he asked me about it and I merely told him the truth," said Thomas. "I've filled in from time to time as a favour to Doug, but I don't care for the position. But you, on the other hand, have always seemed to enjoy working out puzzles. And you're very good at it. You'll do a much better job of it than I would."

"Nevertheless, I appreciate your support."

"Something I didn't do nearly enough of when you were younger," Thomas admitted. "Now, one other thing. New Year's Eve. You should take Jean to the dance at the club. I can keep an eye on the children while you're out."

"Aren't you going?" asked Lucien.

"No, I thought I'd stay home this year. I've already invited the Clasby ladies over to see it in with me."

"If you're sure it won't be too much trouble."

"No trouble. You go. Lord knows you and Jean deserve a night out to yourselves. Enjoy yourselves."

"That's very kind of you. I'm certain we will."


	11. Chapter 11

Jean arose early the next morning to prepare breakfast for Lucien and Christopher before they left to catch the train to Melbourne. She thought she might invite her sister Mary for a visit. Danny and Amy could play with Jack and Li, while she and Mary discussed the wedding.

Lucien came downstairs and into the kitchen. "Good morning," he said with a bright smile. He kissed her cheek, but before they could take it any further Christopher walked in.

"Good morning," he said.

"You look very smart," said Lucien. Christopher had dressed in his Sunday best.

"Yes, you do," Jean echoed.

Christopher blushed, embarrassed as always at being praised. "I just want to help Lucien all I can," he said quietly.

"I'm sure you'll make a very good impression on the Medical Board," said Jean. Privately she thought that if the Board had been female, her handsome boys would have won them over instantly.

While they ate, Jean sat over a cup of tea, planning to have her breakfast later with Doctor Blake and the two younger children. "Do you know which train you'll take back home?" she asked Lucien.

"I thought we'd make a day of it, since we're going all that way. But we should be home in time for dinner."

"Right," said Jean. "Might as well make the most of it."

"While we're there I thought I might see about finding a tailor to provide suits for the wedding," said Lucien.

Jean smiled. It warmed her heart that he was already making plans. He wanted this just as much as she did. "And I'll speak to Father Morton today, make an appointment for us to discuss the details. Is any time particularly good or bad for you?"

He waved a hand. "Just tell me when and I'll be there."

"I don't know very much about weddings," said Christopher. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Don't worry, mate. We'll have a rehearsal before it so everyone knows what's what," Lucien assured the boy.

Christopher nodded that he could handle that.

They finished eating, and Jean sent them both out the door with a kiss, then set to preparing breakfast for the others. She was already looking forward to seeing Mary and telling her the news.

* * *

With the other four children sent off to play in the back garden and Doctor Blake ensconced in his study reviewing patient records for the afternoon surgery, Jean and Mary settled in over a pot of tea for a good catchup.

"What's the big news?" asked Mary.

Jean smiled almost shyly and held out her hand to display the ring.

"My goodness!" said Mary, taking hold of the hand for a closer at the ring. "But who? You just got back a couple months ago. I didn't know you were even seeing anyone."

"What do you mean, who?" Jean said almost indignantly, snatching back her hand. "Lucien, of course."

"Doctor Blake's son? I know you were both in the same camp, but really?"

"Yes, really. Honestly, Mary!" Her sister could be more than a bit thick sometimes.

"Are you sure it isn't just... well, I can imagine how terrible it was there, so I suppose it's a shared experience, but once you've been home for a while I'm sure you can find someone more suitable."

"More suitable?" Jean's eyes were blazing, but Mary didn't seem to notice.

"Someone closer to your standing. Someone more like Christopher."

Jean was too stunned to speak, so Mary just continued. "You know how people will talk. And after young Doctor Blake has settled back into life in Ballarat, surely he'll start looking for a woman more like him, not his father's housekeeper. Jean, I don't want you to be hurt when he throws you over. How well do you even know him?"

"Apparently I know him much better than you know me! I know that he's good and kind and that he can hardly wait until we're married. I know that he loves me and loves the boys, just as I love him and his daughter. I know the boys adore him. I know that he'd move heaven and earth to make me happy, and I'd do the same for him."

"But the gossip!"

"What about it? After what we went through for nearly four years do you think we care about what a bunch of women who have nothing better to do might say about us?"

"What does Doctor Blake say? The elder Doctor Blake, I mean."

"He couldn't be happier for us. He thinks his son deserves some happiness, and he's looking forward to having a real family around him."

Mary thought about that for a moment. "Then I'm happy for you, too. You certainly deserve happiness just as much as Doctor Blake. Good on you, Jean."

Letting out a breath, and letting go of her indignation, Jean stood up and the two sisters embraced.

"And if anyone dares to gossip in my presence, I'll give them a piece or two of my mind," Mary continued. She leaned closer. "He really is very handsome."

"Yes, he is," said Jean, smiling. "Now, what I really wanted to ask is will you be matron of honour at our wedding?"

"Of course I will. You're my sister."

And together they began to make plans.

* * *

While they waited for the train, Lucien purchased a copy of _The Argus_ to find out what was going on in Melbourne. In particular he wanted to peruse the cultural events.

The train pulled into the Ballarat station, and he and Christopher climbed aboard. It was still such a novel experience for Christopher that he was perfectly content to sit by the window and watch the passing landscape while Lucien read the paper. Once Lucien found exactly what he'd been seeking, he tore the item in question from the rest of the newspaper and placed it in the inner pocket of his suit coat. Then he turned his attention to Christopher.

"Anything interesting out there?" he asked.

Christopher gave him a grin. "It's all interesting. I barely remember before we moved to Borneo, so I like seeing what Australia is like."

"Of course this is only Victoria. There's so much more to see. Maybe one day soon we can all go to the ocean, spend some time at the beach. How would you feel about that?"

"I think I'd like that very much," said Christopher.

Lucien nodded. "I'll talk to your mother, see what we can work out. We'll have to finish up those swimming lessons first, I think."

"That's a good idea," said Christopher.

Smiling to himself, Lucien reflected that young Christopher became much more talkative when away from his more voluble brother. And when he wasn't quite so busy looking after everyone else. He'd have to mention it to Jean, who was still concerned at how serious the boy was so much of the time.

"Lucien, what should I say to the Medical Board?" he asked.

"You will only need to speak if they ask you a direct question, then just answer as truthfully as you can. You can do that, can't you?"

"All right. I just don't want to let you down."

"Christopher, you have never let me down, and I can't imagine that you ever will," Lucien told him, looking him squarely in the eye. "You're an exceptional young man, which is why I want you to be my Best Man, yes?"

The boy nodded, a little embarrassed by the praise, but Lucien noted that he sat up straighter in his seat.

They alit from the train in Melbourne and went directly to the offices of the Medical Board. Lucien didn't want this hanging over his head and possibly ruining the day. He needed the matter resolved, one way or the other.

When they reached the building and stepped inside, they met a dark-haired, slender woman at the front desk.

"Excuse me, miss," said Lucien.

"It's 'Doctor' actually," said the woman. "Doctor Alice Harvey."

"Oh, I do beg your pardon," he said quickly.

"Quite all right. It happens all the time," she replied.

"Well, it shouldn't. Doctor Lucien Blake," he said, extending a hand to her.

"Very nice to meet you, Doctor. The receptionist, Miss Adams I think she said her name was, should be back shortly."

"Thank you, Doctor. We'll just wait over here until you finish your business with her."

Lucien smiled down at Christopher, who seemed to be getting more nervous as they waited. Lucien squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, then spoke to Doctor Harvey again. "I don't suppose you know how much longer she'll be?"

"No, I'm sorry. I thought she'd be back by now. She is supposed to be getting me a form I need for an employment opportunity."

"I see," said Lucien. "What's your specialty, if I might inquire?"

"Pathology," the other doctor told him.

"Really. I'm hoping for an appointment as a Police Surgeon myself," said Lucien.

"Here in Melbourne?" asked Doctor Harvey.

"No, no. The town of Ballarat. About seventy miles northwest of here."

"Ballarat? Would you happen to know if the hospital there needs a pathology registrar?"

"I'm afraid I don't," said Lucien. "I'm just in the process of being certified to practice here in Australia, so I don't yet have hospital affiliation. If you'd care to give me your contact information, Doctor, I can certainly inquire for you and let you know."

The woman doctor peered at him closely, seeming to weigh whether his offer was genuine or if he was after something more.

Rather than attempting to justify himself, Lucien merely met her gaze for a few moments before returning his attention to Christopher. "There's a seat over there, if you'd like to sit while we're waiting."

"No, thank you. I'll stay with you," the boy said softly.

Apparently still not certain if she could trust Lucien, Doctor Harvey asked, "Is this your son?"

"No, not yet," Lucien told her, smiling at Christopher. "I'll be marrying his mother in a few months' time, though."

Christopher grinned up at him. That seemed to decide the matter for Doctor Harvey. "She handed him her business card. "Thank you, Doctor Blake, I believe I'll take you up on your generous offer."

"My pleasure, Doctor. I can't promise there will be anything, but it's no trouble to ask, is it? Ah, here comes Miss Adams now."

Lucien and Christopher stepped back once again to allow the other doctor to conclude her business When she had finished and had the required form in hand, she thanked Lucien again and left. Lucien then approached Miss Adams.

The receptionist gave him her best smile. "How can I help you?"

"Doctor Lucien Blake," he introduced himself. "I was here several days ago about being licensed to practice here. I believe the term for my situation is an International Medical Graduate."

"Lucien Blake? I know that name. Wait just a minute, please," she said before he could continue his explanation, and she began leafing through a stack of papers. She pulled one out of the pile and showed it to him. "Yes, I thought so. Here you are. Approved the day before Christmas. I was going to put it in the post today, but you've saved me the trouble. You're all set, Doctor."

He looked closer at the document, his Australian medical license. It was effective 24 December 1945. He had actually been certified to practice medicine when he had treated Michael Tyneman on Boxing Day, even though he didn't know it.

"Thank you, Miss Adams," he told her. "Have a lovely day."

As they walked out the door, he explained the situation to a somewhat confused Christopher.

"So I don't have to talk to them?" Christopher asked.

"That's right, and neither do I. It's all finished, open and above board. But thank you for agreeing to come with me, just in case."

"You're welcome. I would have told them what happened, but I'm glad I don't have to."

"Me, too," said Lucien.

"What now? Do we go home?"

"Not quite yet. There's somewhere I'd like to take you. I think you'll enjoy it."

"What is it?"

"It's a concert, a symphony, with a full orchestra."

Christopher's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yes, but it's a special concert for children, a piece called 'Peter and the Wolf' by a Russian composer named Sergey Prokofiev. How does that sound?"

The boy merely nodded his approval.

"Right, then, we'll get a quick lunch and head over to the concert hall."

Lucien's instincts turned out to be spot on. Christopher was enthralled by the symphony. He watched the musicians closely, especially the ones representing the different characters in the story. As each one entered the tale, Lucien would tell him the name of the instrument: the flute was a bird, the clarinet a cat, the oboe a duck, the bassoon for Peter's grandfather, the whole string section for Peter himself, and so on.

When the wolf had been dealt with and Peter and his animal friends safe once more, Christopher jumped to his feet to applaud, right along with most of the children in the audience.

"I didn't know the instruments could tell a story. That was amazing," said Christopher, his eyes sparkling with wonder at what he'd just experienced.

"Yes, it was," Lucien agreed. "Did you have a favourite?"

"They were all very good, but I think I liked the bird best," said Christopher. "What about you?"

"I'm not sure I had a favourite. Like you, I thought they were all very good. Now, just two more stops before we head back to catch the train. First, a tailor to see about suits for the wedding. We have to look our best, make your mother proud."

Thomas had given him the name of the tailor he used in Melbourne, and Lucien found the man to be quite satisfactory. They came to an agreement about price, and Lucien promised to contact him for appointments for fittings when the actual date was nearer.

"Where to now?" Christopher asked as they returned to the pavement out front of the tailor shop.

"It's just down the street," said Lucien.

They began to walk in the direction he indicated. Lucien could see their target almost immediately, and he watched for the moment when Christopher would see it too. It didn't take long, with the sound of a saxophone emanating from the shop itself. Hanigan's Music Emporium, the sign overhead proclaimed.

Christopher looked to Lucien for confirmation that it was their destination.

"I thought it only fair to let you pick out something to replace your pan flute," he told the boy. "It was very kind of you to give it up like that."

"You had to save that man," Christopher said matter-of-factly, but nonetheless his eyes lit up as they entered the shop. Musical instruments, recordings, and books of sheet music were everywhere.

"Go ahead, look around," Lucien urged. "See what strikes you."

A grand piano sat in the middle of the floor, and Christopher had a close look at it before moving on. He already had a piano to play; he wanted something new.

The shiny saxophone drew his attention briefly, as did the red and silver drum kit, but he moved on from those as well. He had a longer look at the clarinet, but just as Lucien was going to ask the salesman to get it down for him, Christopher walked past it. The violin and other strings barely drew a glance, but then he spotted the flute. It drew him like a moth to a flame, and he stood gazing up at the instrument as it hung on the wall above him.

"Is that the one?" Lucien asked him.

"I think so," said Christopher, and a moment later he held it in his hands, fingering the valves as he'd seen the flautist at the symphony do it. His eyes met Lucien's, and he nodded enthusiastically.

The salesman fitted it into a carrying case, included a basic guide to fingering, and then recommended a book of sheet music for beginners. Lucien reflected that he'd need to accelerate his lessons in teaching the boy how to read music, but he suspected that as with every other aspect of music, Christopher would master it quickly.

As they walked out of the shop and toward the train station, Christopher proudly carried his new instrument. He kept glancing down at the case as though to convince himself it was real.

"Thank you, Lucien," he said quietly, but with such heartfelt sincerity that it brought tears to Lucien's eyes.

* * *

Later that evening, after all of the others had retired to their beds, Jean leaned close to her fiancé, snuggling against his side. "That was very sweet, what you did for Christopher, but you know you don't have to buy their love. They already love you."

"Yes, I know, and I love them. But it didn't seem fair to me that Chris should lose out on something important to him because he did a good deed. He needed to be rewarded for his kindness."

"Life isn't always fair," Jean reminded him. Both of them knew that all too well.

"Then it stands to reason that we should correct life's injustices where we can."

"Yes, we should," said Jean. And she kissed him soundly, her champion of justice.


	12. Chapter 12

With his newly-minted Australian Medical License in hand, Lucien wasted no time in going to visit Chief Superintendent Douglas Ashby. Despite Matthew's description of the man, Lucien was not intimidated in the least. With what he'd been through in the past five years, there was very little that frightened him, with the exception of threats to his family and those he loved.

When he entered the police station, Matthew was on duty at the front desk. "He's busy at the moment with Jock Clement," Matthew told him.

"Jock Clement. Isn't he..."

"A friend of your father's."

"I was going to say a magistrate," said Lucien.

"That, too. Just installed," said Matthew. "Shouldn't be long, though. The boss doesn't like the man."

"Is that so?" Lucien put it in the form of a question, wondering why these two men who were both friends of Thomas should be at odds.

Matthew understood what he was asking. "Not a clue, and none of my business, unless it affects how a trial is handled."

"Of course," said Lucien.

The office door opened, and a slender man with piercing eyes and a formidable moustache came out.

"I'll just let him know you're here to see him," Matthew said, leaving Lucien to meet the magistrate.

"Lucien Blake, sir," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

"Ah, yes, young Blake," said Clement.

Lucien looked him squarely in the eye, but noticed the other man shift his eyes away at first, before then staring determinedly at Lucien, as though he were forcing himself not to look away again. His smile appeared almost predatory as well. Immediately Lucien decided he didn't fully trust the man, magistrate and friend of Thomas or not.

"Not in trouble with the law already?" Clement asked.

"No, not yet. Just seeing the Chief Superintendent about the position of Police Surgeon." Lucien kept his tone light. No need to antagonize the man before he really knew him.

"Well, well, a real go-getter, are you? Best of luck to you, young man."

Lucien had never liked condescension, and disliked it even more coming from someone he'd just met. Nonetheless, he remained polite. He was still learning the lay of the land in Ballarat. And with a family to consider now, he didn't need to be making enemies.

"Thank you, sir. Good day to you." Matthew was motioning him forward so he had a perfect excuse to get away from the man.

"Go on in," Matthew said. "Good luck."

He entered the office and immediately decided that if Ashby and Clement were at odds, and Lucien was required to choose sides, he was on the Chief Superintendent's team. There was no pretense about Doug Ashby. He studied Lucien for a long moment, then nodded.

"So, you're interested in becoming Police Surgeon," he said.

"That's right," said Lucien.

"You know what the position entails?"

"I do."

"Just to be sure, l want you to read this handbook," said Ashby, handing over the volume in question. "You'll have a two-week probationary period, and at the end of that time if I'm satisfied with your work, the position is yours. You have privileges at the hospital?"

"My next destination," Lucien assured him.

"You'll need their facilities for performing autopsies."

"Of course," said Lucien. "I'll take care of it."

"I'm sure you will, Lucien," said Ashby. "I have a feeling you're going to be very useful around here."

"Thank you, sir," said Lucien, standing to shake the man's hand. Doug Ashby reminded him of some of the better commanding officers he'd served under in the military. You knew where you stood with him and what was expected. Lucien could appreciate that.

He appreciated it even more an hour later when faced with the newly appointed Chief Surgeon at Ballarat Hospital, Doctor Geoffrey Nicholson. The man was officious in the extreme, and was entirely too full of himself. He didn't even wait until they reached his office before giving Lucien a difficult time over his surgical credentials. They stood in the corridor as he interrogated Lucien about his surgical training.

"Saint Bart's, you say? Is that in Melbourne?" he queried.

Lucien took a deep breath before responding, "It's in London. Oldest hospital in the city." _And one of the most renowned in the world_, he refrained from saying.

Nicholson frowned. "And you're licensed to practice in Australia, after not training here?"

Lucien showed him the license for the second time, and Nicholson took it from him to study it more closely while Lucien tried to hide his irritation. He wasn't looking for employment, at least not yet, just privileges to perform surgery and autopsies.

"Blake," he heard from behind him, and turned to see Patrick Tyneman approaching.

"Patrick, good to see you. How's your father doing?"

"Much better, thanks to you. He'll be released tomorrow. What are you doing here? No one's ill?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I'm seeking access to hospital facilities," Lucien told him.

Patrick nodded. "I see. Nicholson, you'll be granting him privileges, of course? This man saved my father's life. I'm sure my father will insist on him being here."

"Yes, certainly, Mister Tyneman. All appears to be in order," said Nicholson, handing the license back to Lucien. "I'll complete the necessary paperwork right away."

"Good. You do that. Lucien, do you have a few minutes? Father has been wanting to thank you personally."

"Just for a minute, then," said Lucien. As they walked down the corridor, he wondered why Nicholson had been so quick to do Patrick's bidding. "Do you have some connection to this hospital, Patrick?" he asked.

"Father is the head of the hospital board, and the family is providing most of the funding for a new surgical wing that will begin construction shortly," Patrick explained.

"I see. Very impressive. Maybe you'd know, then, the best person to ask about any openings in Pathology."

"Not for yourself, surely?"

"No, no. I met a pathologist in Melbourne yesterday who's looking for a position. I said I'd check if there was anything available."

"As a matter of fact, there happens to be a spot open. Only one applicant so far, a local chap by the name of Bert Prentice. Not very impressive, though, so you tell your friend to send in a C.V. right away."

"I'll do that. Thank you, Patrick. And now that my license is squared away I can start seeing patients. Dad has offered me the use of his surgery, so let me know if you'd like to set up an appointment."

Patrick nodded. "I'll have Susan call, then."

"Yes, do that," said Lucien.

They reached their destination, and Patrick led the way inside. "Father, I found Lucien Blake down the hall," he announced.

Michael's voice was hoarse, but it still held the self-assurance of a man who who knows he's accomplished much in his life. "Come in, please," he said, motioning Lucien closer. "I'd like to shake your hand, Doctor."

Lucien did as he asked, extending a hand, which Michael gripped in both of his.

"My son said you were in the process of getting your medical license here. No problem with that?"

"As a matter of fact, it was issued just before Christmas. They just hadn't posted it yet," Lucien explained.

"Good to hear. Wouldn't want your good deed to be punished in any way," said Michael, nodding approvingly. "Anything else you need, you come see me, you hear?"

Lucien had no intention of taking him up on the offer on his own behalf, but perhaps...

"There's one thing," he began. "I don't know if anyone mentioned it to you, but a young man by the name of Christopher Beazley also played a part in your rescue. In order to help you breath, I needed some type of tube. Christopher suggested I use one of the pipes from his pan flute, a small instrument that meant a great deal to him. He's very talented musically, you see."

"I'll replace it," said Michael, firmly. "Tell the boy to pick out any instrument he likes. Bloody hell, I'll buy him a piano if that's what he wants."

Lucien smiled. "That won't be necessary. He's already acquired a new concert-type flute. What he needs now is someone to teach him to play it. I don't suppose you know of anyone?" Lucien seemed to recall that Michael Tyneman was one of the principal patrons of the arts in Ballarat.

"Flute teacher, eh? I think I can arrange something for him, then. I know a flautist who teaches at Saint Patrick's College. He takes on a few private students, and if the young man is as talented as you say, it might be a very good fit. I'll be in touch once I get out of here."

"Thank you," said Lucien. "Young Christopher is very serious about his music, and with the right teacher I think he could go a long way."

"Is that right? Then we'll make sure he has what he needs to succeed. Again, thank you, Doctor."

"You're quite welcome," said Lucien.

* * *

That evening, as Lucien and Jean sat together on the couch, drinks in hand as had become their custom, Lucien told her about his visit to the hospital.

"So Michael Tyneman is going to find a flute teacher for our son?" Jean said.

Lucien smiled at her referring to Christopher as 'our' son. He certainly couldn't love the boy more if they had been related by blood. "He's going to try, at least."

"Believe me, Lucien, when Michael Tyneman tries to hire someone he usually succeeds. The Tyneman family runs this town now."

"Do they? Then I suppose it's a good thing they owe me a favour," he commented. "Tell me, how was your day?"

"Nothing special," said Jean. "I talked to my sister, and she said she'd be happy to have all three children stay overnight on New Year's Eve if we want to go to the party at the Colonists' Club. That way your father can enjoy his company without worrying about the children."

"What do you think? The Colonists' or somewhere quieter, more private? It's up to you."

"I was rather looking forward to seeing the club. I've never been inside," Jean admitted. "I suppose we might go somewhere more private after we see in the New Year, what with no reason we need to be home right away."

"Perfect," said Lucien, already looking forward to it. "The party at the club will be formal, you know. If you like, we can make a quick trip to Melbourne before then. I know you said you make most of your clothes, but will you have time to make something formal that quickly?"

"I started as soon as your father suggested we go to the party. It will be done in time. And what about you? Do you have a proper suit to wear?"

"I have a tuxedo from before the war. I'll need to have it altered to fit now, of course. I'll see to it."

She nodded. He had begun to fill out his broad frame again, and she was proud that her cooking was responsible for much of it, but he was still much leaner than she remembered him being when he first entered the camp at Changi.

"From what Mary tells me about the Ballarat rumour mill, we'll probably be the center of attention at the club," she said.

"I can understand that you might be, as surely the most beautiful woman there, but what's so interesting about the two of us?" he inquired.

"You really don't know? Lucien, it's not every day a doctor marries a housekeeper," she pointed out.

"Really? I suppose it's only because other housekeepers aren't as brilliant and kind and lovely as you," he insisted.

There was nothing for it but to share a kiss. When they leaned back she smiled tenderly at him.

"Oh, I should tell you, Li said today that she's very eager to start school, especially now that the boys will be going soon. Do you have any idea which school she should attend?"

With a rueful grimace, Lucien admitted, "I haven't really given it a lot of thought. Do you think she'd be comfortable going to the one the boys will be at?"

"I should think so," said Jean. "Maybe you and Li would like to come along on the first day of the new term when I take them, see what you think of it? I can call the headmaster to set up a meeting if you'd like," she offered.

"Yes, please do," said Lucien. He took a sip of his whiskey. "Now, my dear, tell me about this formal dress you're making."

Jean shook her head. "Not until then. I'd like it to be a surprise," she told him, her eyes twinkling.

"I'm sure it will be beautiful. Almost as beautiful as you. Now, if you say we're bound to be the center of attention on New Year's Eve, we'll probably have all eyes on us when the clock strikes midnight. Maybe we need to practice our kissing, eh? Wouldn't want to disappoint them."

"Yes, I believe you're quite right," said Jean. "We should practice."

And practice they did.


	13. Chapter 13

"Do you have everything ready to spend the night with Amy and Danny?" Jean asked Li.

"Yes, Mummy, my bag is packed. I wanted to help you get ready for the ball. Like Cinderella," said Li.

"Are you going to be my fairy godmother?" she asked the little girl with a smile.

Li nodded eagerly. "You're going to look just like a princess!"

"And your father will be Prince Charming?" asked Jean, playing along with the fantasy.

"Do you think he's very handsome?" asked Li.

"Yes, very handsome."

"I think so, too."

While Jean was putting on her slip, Li admired the dress. She had found some deep, rich green silk and fashioned a tight-fitting bodice with a lower neckline than she'd ever worn before. She'd sewn several rows of tiny beads in the same colour all along the top edge of the bodice, and they sparkled even in the low light of her bedroom. The skirt was floor-length, flowing in elegant folds from the waist. To complete it, she had made a bolero jacket of velvet in a nearly identical colour, but with slightly larger black beads across the neck and shoulders. It fastened in the front with a single jet button. The jacket had been an afterthought, when she wasn't sure she was daring enough to wear such a low-cut dress, but she was pleased with the way it had turned out, and the way it set off the dress.

She had wanted to go to a hairdresser to look her best, but she felt embarrassed at how much hair she continued to lose. Lucien had told her it was a natural consequence resulting from years of malnutrition, and although the hair loss wasn't readily apparent, a hairdresser would certainly notice. Instead, she had accepted Mary's help in styling it in an elegant upsweep.

With her slip and stockings donned, Jean carefully lifted the dress to slide it over her head. It fell into place, and the luxurious fabric indeed made her feel like a princess. Li stood on the bed to help zip it up the back.

"Well?" she said, turning back so Li could see the effect.

"You do look like a princess," said Li, her dark eyes shining.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she said. "I couldn't have done it without my fairy godmother."

Li giggled.

"Now, the finishing touches." She had thought about wearing the gold and jade broach Lucien had given her for Christmas, but it didn't quite fit with either the dress or the jacket. Instead she went for just a pair of small gold hoop earrings and a single pearl hanging on a fine gold chain around her neck.

She had done her makeup prior to getting dressed so she only had to slide into her heels and apply her lipstick. When she had done so, she checked the overall effect in the mirror and was satisfied. She had to admit to herself that she looked like the fiancée of a doctor more than the daughter of a farmer, which was exactly what she had intended.

"Daddy will be very happy when he sees you," Li told her.

"I hope so," said Jean. "Thank you for your help, Li. It's so lovely to have another woman around to help me."

Li smiled proudly. "When I get old enough to go to balls, will you help me get ready, Mummy?"

"It would be my pleasure, sweetheart," Jean assured her. "Now let's go downstairs and show your father."

Li slipped downstairs first to be sure her father was there to see Jean's entrance. Not only was Lucien waiting there, but Thomas, Christopher and Jack as well.

"We're ready, Mummy," she called out.

With a firm nod to herself, Jean started down the staircase. Instinctively her eyes sought Lucien's. His were wide with awe and his mouth hung open as he watched her descend. It was only when she was a few steps from the bottom that he came back to himself and held out a hand to her.

"Jean, you look absolutely..." He fumbled for a word to describe her. "Magnificent," he said at last. "Breathtaking."

"You look beautiful, Mum," said Christopher, while Jack just nodded vigourously in agreement.

"You are a vision, my dear," said Thomas as the four men stood around admiring her. He reached into a pocket and withdrew a small jewellery box. "Jean, these belonged to my dearest Geneviève. I'm quite sure she would be pleased that I pass them along to you."

"Doctor... Thomas, thank you," said Jean. She opened the box to find a pair of diamond stud earrings that would perfectly complement her engagement ring. "They're exquisite," she insisted, quickly removing the hoops and replacing them with Thomas's gift. "I'll treasure them always," she promised, kissing him on the cheek.

"And not to be outdone," said Lucien, holding out a box of his own.

Inside was a rather large diamond solitaire on a beautifully delicate chain. "I'm being spoiled," she said with a smile. "Thank you."

She turned her back so that he could replace the pearl pendant with the diamond one. When he had finished fastening the clasp, he gave a quick kiss to the back of her neck, making her blush. "Now I really do feel like a princess," she said, winking at Li.

"You certainly look the part, with or without jewellery," said Lucien.

"I can put those away for you," Li offered, indicating the hoop earrings and pearl. "I'll be very careful."

"I know you will, darling. Thank you," said Jean.

When she had returned, Lucien asked, "Now, is everybody ready?" They would drop the three children at the Parks home on the way to the club.

"Thomas, I've left three plates of hors d'oeuvres in the refrigerator for you and your guests. And the champagne is also in there chilling."

"I'm sure we'll be fine, thank you. Just go and enjoy yourselves," he urged. "You deserve it."

After leaving the children at her sister's, with promises to be on their best behaviour, Jean and Lucien arrived at the Colonists Club. From the level of noise they could hear as they walked up the stairs, the party was already in full swing.

Despite knowing that she looked like she belonged in this high society gathering, Jean still felt nervous. But as she'd learned to do long ago, she put on a brave face and forged ahead. Lucien saw through it, though, and squeezed her hand in reassurance. "You'll be the loveliest woman here, and the most brilliant," he told her softly. He leaned closer. "And the most loved."

That earned a smile from her. It was those little extra touches of kindness that made her love him all the more.

She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and took a deep breath as they reached the top of the stairs. A diminutive man with a friendly smile greeted Lucien warmly.

"A pleasure to see you, sir, as always," he said.

"And you, Cec. Jean, may I present a very dear friend, Cec Drury, the heart and soul of the Colonists Club. Cec, my fiancée, Jean Beazley."

"Lovely to meet you," Jean said.

"And you, Mrs. Beazley. The mother of Masters Christopher and Jack, I presume?"

"Yes, that's right, you've met my boys. They were quite impressed."

"They're fine young gentlemen," said Cec. "And my heartiest congratulations on your engagement."

"Thank you." She glanced over at Lucien, who was beaming proudly. "We're very happy."

"If you'll allow me to have this young man show you to your table, there's a bottle of champagne waiting for you," said Cec.

Lucien rested a hand at the small of her back as they followed the waiter to their table. When they were seated, he popped the cork and filled their glasses with the sparkling wine.

"To a lovely evening, and to making the upcoming year the best one ever," said Lucien as he touched the rim of his glass to hers. They held each other's gaze as they sipped champagne. Perhaps Li had been right after all. Jean certainly felt like a princess when he smiled at her in just that way.

When the band began to play a waltz, Lucien listened for just a moment. "'Roses from the South'. One of my absolute favourites. May I?" He held a hand out to her, and they moved out onto the dance floor.

It was the first time they'd actually danced together, she realized, and as with every other part of their life, they just fit together naturally. They glided effortlessly across the floor, perfectly in step. She enjoyed it immensely, being in his arms, and it was only when the music was ending that she became aware that they were somehow the centre of attention. She stiffened self-consciously, wondering exactly what was being said about a housekeeper attending a formal event like this in the company of the scion of an important family.

Sensing her discomfort, Lucien tried to deflect it. He squeezed her hand, saying, "You're a wonderful dancer, my dear. We should do much more of this."

On the way back to their table, they passed Patrick and Susan Tyneman. Susan had a sour look on her face, just as Jean would have expected, but Patrick stood up to greet them.

"Blake, Jean, may I say how elegant the two of you looked out there? It was a pleasure to watch you."

"Thank you, Patrick, that's very kind of you," Jean told him.

"It's all down to Jean," Lucien insisted, smiling at her, "but thank you. Susan." He nodded at Mrs. Tyneman, who managed a tight-lipped nod in return. "Happy New Year."

"And to you," said Patrick.

When they were back at their own table, Lucien said, "You see? They thought you were beautiful and elegant."

Jean knew for a fact that wasn't what Susan thought, but she kept it to herself. She had known what she might well have to face from the moment she accepted Lucien's proposal. His love and the prospect of joining their families together were worth far more than the temporary discomfort of gossip or innuendo.

Instead of paying attention to Susan or any of the other gossipers, she put her full focus on Lucien, which was much more enjoyable anyway. He was at his most charming, and all that charm was directed at her. He soon had her laughing, and she was totally in his power as she watched his eyes sparkle with happiness.

He was telling her a story about Li's first steps when a buzz rippled across the room. She turned to look at what was causing the stir.

"Stephen Lucas," she said under her breath.

"Oh?" Lucien turned to look.

"He's only the wealthiest young man in Ballarat," she told him.

"Yes, I know," said Lucien. "He's my cousin actually."

She turned to stare at Lucien instead. "Your cousin?"

"Yes. His mother is my Auntie Dorothy. Dad's sister."

"You're related to the Lucas family?" Jean was astonished. "Why didn't I know that?"

"Dad is estranged from his whole family," Lucien told her. He looked down into his glass. "They cut him off for marrying my mother."

"Oh, Lucien. That's shameful. How cruel!"

"Yes, it is," said Lucien.

"And now, even after all this time, there's been no attempt to reconcile? Surely Stephen had nothing to do with it. Nor did you," Jean pointed out. Family was important, she thought. You didn't turn your back on them.

"That family treated my dear mother like... like a pariah," Lucien objected.

"Stephen didn't," Jean pointed out. "He was a small child, if he was even alive at the time. You've made peace with your father. Why not reach out to Stephen, too? Be the bigger man."

Lucien stared at her, considering what she'd said. He still revered his mother, even though she'd been gone for twenty-five years.

"Don't you think your mother would have preferred a reconciliation if she'd had the choice?" Jean asked. "From what you and your father have told me about her, she was very warm-hearted and generous."

"Yes, she was," said Lucien.

He gazed at her with that lovesick look she'd been seeing more and more from him lately. If she'd been a schemer she would have used it to influence him, manipulate him, but she would much rather reason with him.

"It's your family, I'll let you decide," she told him.

He took another sip from the champagne glass, considering, then stood up. "Jean, I think we should introduce ourselves to my cousin," he announced.

Together, hand in hand, they approached him. Stephen Lucas was tall, taller even than Lucien, and very slender. His fair hair was perfectly styled and his tuxedo was exquisitely tailored, but Jean noticed that his blue eyes were pale and there was none of the spark that Jean loved so much in Lucien's eyes.

"Hello, Stephen," Lucien began. "I'm ..."

"Lucien Blake," said Stephen, extending a hand. The two men shook. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Very good. Jean Beazley, I'd like you to meet my cousin, Stephen Lucas. Stephen, my fiancée Jean Beazley."

"Ah, then, my congratulations to the two of you," said Stephen.

"Thank you," said Jean. "Are you here alone?"

"I'm afraid so. My wife Anne is home with our daughter, Catherine, who seems to have strep throat. Didn't want to leave her with the nanny when she wasn't feeling well."

"As a mother myself, I can understand that," said Jean.

"Stephen, why don't you join us if you're alone," Lucien suggested.

"Yes, please do," Jean echoed.

"All right. We should get to know each other," said Stephen.

Lucien slid into the chair beside Jean's and rested his arm across her chair back while Stephen settled opposite them. With a scotch in hand, Stephen leaned back and looked at them.

"You just got back from the war a couple months ago, didn't you?" he asked Lucien, who nodded. "And you're engaged. So did you two meet before the war?"

Lucien glanced over at Jean, obviously not sure how much she wanted to be revealed about their past history. She had nothing to hide. "We met during the war," she told Stephen.

"Is that right? Where were you stationed, Lucien?"

"Singapore."

Stephen's eyes widened. "You were there when...?"

"Yes, when it fell to the Japanese," Lucien confirmed, rather matter-of-factly.

"So you... and Mrs. Beazley, too?"

"I lived in Borneo when the Japanese invaded," she said. "And, yes, we wound up in the same camp, if that's what you're asking."

"I see," he said, taking a larger drink from his scotch.

"What about you?" Lucien asked him. "How did you spend the war?"

Stephen watched the liquid in the glass as he swirled it around. "Nothing as noteworthy as that," he said, still not meeting their eyes. "I was in Adelaide. A very junior aide to a pencil-pushing colonel you've never heard of."

"Good for you," said Lucien sincerely. He reached out a hand and rested it on Stephen's wrist until Stephen looked up to see that Lucien meant what he said.

"Really? Whenever I meet someone like you, someone who saw action, well, I feel as though I sat on the sidelines for the biggest match of my life."

"The Japanese had to be stopped, of course, and the Germans, but war is something to be avoided whenever possible."

Jean nodded her agreement. If there was never another war, the world would be much better off. The thought that her sons might someday have to become soldiers worried her no end.

"Very decent of you to say," Stephen told Lucien. He emptied his drink. "I'm glad we could talk like this after all those years." He shook his head. "Family feuds."

"I don't think we'll get your mother and my father to put it behind them quite so easily, but it's nothing to do with you and me, as my very wise fiancée has pointed out to me," said Lucien.

Stephen tipped his glass toward Jean in acknowledgment. "You're a lucky man, Lucien."

"You should come to the wedding, you and Anne" Jean told him. "In June. The 22nd."

"I would be delighted," said Stephen.

"We'll be sure you get an invitation," said Jean.

"It's been a real pleasure to get to know you both," said Stephen. "Lucien, I'll give you a call. We should stay in touch. Now, if you'll excuse me, I see a business associate I really must speak with."

"Happy New Year," said Lucien.

They watched him walk across the room. "He seems nice enough," said Jean.

"Yes," said Lucien. "Now I just have to decide how I'm going to tell my father about this."

They spent the rest of the evening dancing, chatting and catching up with people they hadn't seen in many years. When midnight approached, though, they retreated to their own table to greet the New Year privately, just the two of them. Lucien pulled his chair closer to Jean's, and when the final chime sounded, he pulled her into a long, passionate kiss, much more intense than they would usually share in public, but with the holiday as an excuse they made the most of it. For Jean, the rest of the room disappeared, it was only her and the man she loved. The taste of champagne mingling with the taste of Lucien was a heady combination. The prospect of a lifetime of such kisses made Jean even more eager for June to arrive.

They danced another waltz before bowing out of the club, thanking Cec once again on their way out the door.

"Home?" Jean asked as Lucien started the car.

"Only if you want to," said Lucien.

She smiled. "What did you have in mind?"

"I have it on very good authority that there's a spot on the shore of Lake Wendouree that looks very romantic in the moonlight."

"And what authority would that be?" asked Jean, knowing it was a very popular spot for trysts.

"Well, mine, actually," he said somewhat sheepishly.

"Got lucky there as a teenager, did you?" she asked with arched eyebrow.

"Not half as lucky as I was to meet you," he said, smoothly avoiding the question. He wasn't one to kiss and tell, which Jean respected.

They passed several parked cars along the lake, but the spot where Lucien finally stopped was both empty and secluded, yet with a lovely view of the moonlight sparkling against the water.

"Very nice," said Jean. "I bow to your authority."

He grinned at her before turning on the car's wireless, already set to a station playing soft music. They rolled down the windows to take advantage of the gentle breeze coming off the lake.

She slid closer so that he could put his arm around her. "Just about perfect," she whispered, just before turning her face up so that he could lean over to kiss her.

His tongue sought permission and she opened to let it inside, loving the way it softly brushed against her own. Her passion for him surged. She wondered if he expected they would consummate their union here in his father's car, but once again he seemed to read her mind.

"I love you, Jean Beazley, more than I have words to tell you, but I also respect you. I don't want our first time making love to be a frantic groping in the back seat of a car. You deserve more than I can ever give you, but I'll have to settle for doing the best I can - in a proper bed in a proper setting where we can take our time and do it right."

"Thank you, Lucien." She kissed his cheek. "Besides, we're already creating enough gossip. Can you imagine if I turned up in the family way before we make it to the altar?"

"Hmm. We haven't talked about that," said Lucien. "The possibility of having more children."

She reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. "If it's all the same to you, I think we should leave it in God's hands. If it happens, it happens, and we'll cherish any little ones that come along. If not, we still have three beautiful children between us to raise and love."

"I think that's very wise, my dear. But be warned, once we're married I expect there will be very frequent chances for you to become pregnant."

"I certainly hope so," she told him, patting his cheek.

He kissed her again before she cuddled closer to rest her head against his shoulder as they gazed out over the water and listened to the soft music, each of them contemplating the joys that awaited them in the years ahead. The years they would spend together as man and wife. The future looked bright indeed.


	14. Chapter 14

Jean sent the children upstairs to make their beds and straighten their rooms as soon as they'd finished breakfast while the adults lingered over a second cup of tea. She wanted them out of earshot when Lucien told his father about the encounter with Stephen Lucas the night before, just in case there were harsh words exchanged.

"I hope you and the Clasby ladies had a pleasant time seeing in the New Year," said Jean, to open the conversation.

"Quite nice, thank you," said Thomas. "They were most impressed with the little dainties you prepared. And when I mentioned the engagement they said it only proved what a smart boy Lucien has always been." He winked at his son, causing Lucien to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"And how was the club?" Thomas continued.

"Very nice," said Jean. "Very elegant."

"I assume all the regulars were there?"

"Yes," Lucien began, "and a few I was surprised to see."

"Oh? Like whom?"

"Stephen Lucas, for one," said Lucien, inwardly cringing in anticipation of fireworks.

Thomas frowned. "Was he alone?"

"As a matter of fact, he was," said Lucien. "His wife was home with their little girl who is under the weather."

"I'll bet he didn't stay alone for long. Always has people fawning over him," Thomas grumbled.

"No, he wasn't alone for long. Jean and I invited him to join us," said Lucien, figuring he might as well get it all out in the open.

Thomas's frown deepened. "I wasn't aware you even knew the man."

"I didn't, not really. Not until last night," said Lucien.

"You know what that family did to your mother!" Thomas roared.

"I know what you said his parents did to you and Mother," Lucien said in an even tone, hoping to defuse the situation. "Stephen wasn't responsible for that. He seems like a pleasant enough chap."

"His mother... My sister Dorothy..." Thomas sputtered.

Jean reached out to touch his hand gently. "Lucien told me they were very unkind to you and Mrs. Blake. I'm sorry for that, Doctor."

"'Very unkind' is putting it mildly. They would have run her out of town if they could have. My beautiful, gentle Genevieve."

"Tell me what happened," Jean encouraged.

"Yes, please," said Lucien. "I know so little about all of that."

"Your mother didn't want you to know, not when you were so young," said Thomas.

"I know she was French," said Jean. "How did you meet?"

All of the combativeness drained out of Thomas. He leaned back in his chair and a small smile crept over his face. "We met in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower," he began. "Just as Lucien did, I went to medical school in Edinburgh. On the holidays, I would go to The continent, France mostly. On this particular day, I was sitting in a cafe when I noticed a beautiful young lady sketching the children on the carousel across the way. Hoping that perhaps she was single, I quickly purchased a bouquet of flowers and presented them to her. She agreed to join me for a cup of coffee and we were inseparable for the rest of my holidays."

"Very romantic, Doctor," Jean sighed.

"Yes, then we exchanged letters regularly until my next holidays, when we eloped."

"Well done, Dad," said Lucien, who was learning all of this along with Jean.

"Foolishly, I never told my family any of this until I finished my schooling and headed home. I rather expected my parents to be upset, of course, but my sister Dorothy was the worst of all."

"Why was that? What did she have against Genevieve even before they met?" asked Jean.

Thomas ran a hand over his face. "I never knew, at least while Genevieve was still with us. After she... well, after we lost her, I learned that Dorothy had had her mind set on my marrying a friend of hers, an heiress named Angela Bennett. Later married Harold Waterston."

"Oh, yes, the Waterstons. They seem very well suited," Jean observed.

"Much better suited than Angela and I would have been," Thomas sniffed.

"And it seems you and Mrs. Blake were perfectly suited for each other," Jean told him gently.

Lucien wanted to ask about the circumstances surrounding his mother's death, but he decided he had poked the old bear enough for one day. It would keep until another time.

* * *

Lucien's first callout as probationary Police Surgeon came in the middle of the night. A man's body had been found in an alley behind the Pig & Whistle pub.

As he got dressed to attend the scene, he reflected that at least it was warm outside. Then again, if he was hired permanently he could expect to be summoned in the worst kinds of weather. He finished dressing, kissed Jean and sent her back to bed, then accepted the car keys from his father and headed off. He decided that he'd better get an automobile of his own if he did indeed land the job full time.

A police vehicle was on the scene, its headlights, along with those of a waiting ambulance, illuminated the body. As Lucien walked over to it, he was met by Matthew Lawson.

"Good morning. What do we have?" he asked the officer.

"Hiram Graves. Unemployed handyman, just got back from a military hospital a few days ago," Matthew told him. "Body was discovered by Robbie Harrison."

"And what was Mr. Harrison doing out so late?"

"So early, actually. He's a milkman, was on his way to work."

"Ah. Let's have a look." Lucien knelt beside the body and examined it visually before he touched anything. The man's eyelids and lips were heavily swollen. "At first glance, I'd say anaphylactic shock."

"And that is?" asked Matthew. "In English?"

"Allergic reaction," Lucien explained. He opened the man's mouth and peered inside. "Looks as though his airways are completely closed."

"I can see how that would kill him," said Matthew drily.

"Yes," Lucien agreed. He pushed up the man's sleeves to look at his arms. "See here? Some kind of insect sting. Allergic to bees?"

"Bees? At night?"

"I suppose it's possible he was stung earlier, and it took a while for the toxins to enter his bloodstream, but you're right, it seems somewhat unusual. An autopsy should tell us more."

"What should I tell Ashby when he comes in?"

Lucien glanced at his watch. "By then I'm hoping the autopsy will have provided some answers."

Matthew signaled for the ambos to take the body.

Lucien drove behind the ambulance. The sun was just peeking over the horizon when he pulled into the hospital car park.

It took several minutes for the administrator on duty to verify that the younger Doctor Blake was in fact entitled to hospital privileges before he was allowed to proceed downstairs to the morgue. The pathology registrar was already looking over Mister Graves's body when Lucien entered. When she turned around to acknowledge him, he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was Doctor Alice Harvey.

"Doctor, it's good to see you again," he greeted her.

"Doctor Blake," she nodded. "I was going to seek you out today to thank you for letting me know about the position here."

"I've saved you the trouble then," he said as he donned a lab coat. "Now, let's have a look at Mister Graves, shall we?"

They worked together, examining the body closely. When they reached the site on his arm and studied it closely, they both shook their heads.

"That isn't a bee sting," said Doctor Harvey.

"I concur," said Lucien. "It almost looks like a mosquito bite."

"I don't believe I've ever heard of this type of severe anaphylaxis from a mosquito bite."

"Nor have I. Doctor, look here," said Lucien, holding the magnifying glass over a site on the inside of the arm. "I do believe it's a puncture. Does that look like an injection mark to you?"

"It does. I suggest we need a toxicology report on the victim, Doctor Blake."

"It's Lucien, please. And yes, the toxicology results should tell quite a bit, I'd say."

"I'll draw a sample and get started, then. And I'm Alice."

* * *

Two hours later, Lucien handed the autopsy report to Chief Superintendant Ashby, who set it down on his desk without opening it.

"Tell me what I need to know, in plain English," he said.

"Mister Graves was murdered by means of a lethal injection of tetrodotoxin, the venom of a blue-ringed octopus."

Ashby narrowed his eyes. "I thought it was a bee sting. Is this going to be a habit with you, Blake? Turning a routine death from natural causes into a homicide?"

"Only when the medical evidence indicates that," Lucien said calmly. He was certain of the facts in the autopsy report.

Ashby stared at him, and Lucien met his gaze evenly, not looking away until Ashby did so first.

"All right, Doctor. Now tell me, where would one go about getting this particular venom?"

"You might be looking for someone with access to an aquarium, or even a fisherman," Lucien told him. "The blue-ringed octopus is native to the waters off the northern coast."

"All right, thank you, Doctor. I'll let you know if we need anything further from you."

Lucien nodded and headed toward the door, only to be stopped by Ashby's voice. "That was a clever bit of work. You may prove very useful around here."

"Thank you," said Lucien. He waited until he was outside before he smiled. Not a bad first day of work.

When he arrived home, he found Jean in the kitchen, ironing shirts for the boys' school uniforms.

"There you are," she said, smiling at him. "Have you had breakfast? I put a plate in the oven; it should still be warm."

"Lovely," he said, retrieving the food and sitting down.

"So how did it go?" she asked.

"It was interesting. Turns out the poor man was murdered."

"Oh, my."

"Yes. And do you remember I mentioned Doctor Alice Harvey that Christopher and I met in Melbourne?"

"The pathologist? She found a position here?"

"She's the new pathology registrar, so I'll be working with her regularly."

"Really?" said Jean, looking up from her ironing. "We should ask her over for dinner. She probably doesn't know many people here yet."

"A splendid idea. Maybe we could have Matthew Lawson over at the same time," Lucien suggested. "It wouldn't hurt for her to meet some policemen. She's bound to run across them on the job."

"We should probably run it past your father first. It is his house, after all," Jean pointed out.

"I'll do that, though I doubt he'll have any objection. And while we're on the subject, after we get married, would you prefer that we find a place of our own?"

The thought hadn't even crossed Jean's mind. "Would you?" she asked. "What I mean is, the children are settled here now, and after all they've been through do we really want to uproot them again? And there's also your father. With the kindness he's shown us - all of us - it hardly seems fair to deprive him of a housekeeper as well as his family."

"I'm perfectly content to stay here, at least for a while. I just thought you might like us to have a home of our own," said Lucien.

"This has come to feel like our own home," she admitted. "Your father has given me a free hand to manage things as I see fit, so if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to stay here for a while anyway. And now, if you've finished your breakfast would you mind terribly taking a trek up to the attic for me? I'm told that some of your old book bags are up there. The boys could use them for school. I'd send them up to look for themselves, but they'll make a day of it."

"Of course," said Lucien. "For you, anything."

"I should warn you there are quite a few of your mother's things up there. I hope it won't upset you to see them."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," said Lucien, but Jean could see the trace of apprehension in his eyes.

"Just remember I'll be down here waiting, if you need to talk about anything," she said, squeezing his arm.

He smiled. "Nothing will ever be too upsetting if I know you'll be here waiting," he assured her. "Back in two ticks."

* * *

_Just wondering if everyone prefers that I post longer chapters or more frequent updates. I'm currently working on two active stories and another one in the planning/research stage as well as the occasional Snippet, so I'm afraid I can't post weekly updates of the length I was doing with 'Prisoners'. If you'd like longer chapters they will have to be less frequent._


	15. Chapter 15

_I apologize for the delay. RL got in the way. I'll try to update in a more timely manner in the future._

Lucien supposed he must have been in the attic of his father's house at sometime before, but for the life of him he couldn't remember when that was. As he reached the top of the stairs and looked around, the layout was vaguely familiar, though, so he knew he'd been up there. Before doing anything else, he strode around the large space and threw open all the curtains to let in some light.

Able to see more clearly, he was surprised that everything wasn't covered by a thick layer of dust, but then he remembered that Jean said she and the boys had made a visit up there while he was still off searching for Li. Knowing Jean, she would have been armed with a duster of some sort.

He tried to ascertain if there was any order to where things had been stored. If in fact there was, it was beyond his understanding. He found baby clothes (presumably his) in a box stacked on top of a crate of very old medical books which might have been his father's or even his grandfather's. Not much use now, except perhaps to a historian or collector.

A set of photograph albums with pictures of European cities was set atop an old-fashioned gramophone. And leaning against it, a pair of snowshoes. Surely Ballarat had not seen enough snow in recent memory to make them even useful, much less necessary. Souvenirs of time spent in the Scots highlands, perhaps?

His search for the book bags was derailed when he came across some folders of patient records. Immediately he wondered why they were consigned to the attic rather than in the cabinets in his father's surgery. He started to look them over. The first two solved the mystery - both contained death certificates as the first document inside. He was about to replace them when the name on the third folder jumped out at him: Genevieve Ettienne Blake.

He pulled that one out and set the others aside. He planned to study the file at length, since he'd always wondered what kind of surgical procedure had caused the complications leading to his dear mother's passing.

Suddenly recalling the mission that had sent him up to the attic in the first place, though, he laid the medical file at the top of the stairs where he wouldn't forget it and went back to searching for the elusive book bags.

There was an old bedroom bureau in a corner, and since he was quickly running out of places to look, he tried opening the drawers. The two smaller ones at the top held a number of little items from his childhood: marbles, a tennis ball, his pocket knife, and the like. He thought the children might have fun with some of them, and he would ask Jean if Christopher was old enough to handle the knife responsibly.

The drawer below that held what he'd been looking for - the book bags. Both were empty (no embarrassing notes or pictures, he was relieved to observe) so he emptied the contents of the first two drawers into one of the bags.

Wondering if the last drawer also held memories from his childhood prior to boarding school, he opened it to reveal some notebooks. They didn't look familiar so he looked inside the first one and gasped. They were sketchbooks of his mother's work. Tears immediately sprang to his eyes as he recalled sitting in the studio with her as she worked, the two of them conversing in French. It was among his most cherished memories.

One of the books was filled with drawings of him as a very young child, three or four years at most. Another contained a number of studies of his father as a young man. Lucien recalled that she was working on a portrait of her husband just before her death. It was probably still there, behind the locked door of her studio. At some point he would need to speak with his father about opening the room up once again.

He took the sketchbooks, the bags, and the medical file and headed downstairs.

That evening, after Thomas and the children were in bed, Lucien brought out the sketchbooks. He held out to Jean the one with the drawings of his childhood.

"Your mother's work?" asked Jean.

"Yes, I found them in the attic."

"These are just lovely," she said flipping slowly through the pages. "You were a beautiful child." She wondered if a child of theirs might look like this. Which reminded her that they had never discussed the possibility of additional children.

He noticed that she looked a bit wistful. "What?"

She pointed at a drawing of him as an infant. "I was just thinking..."

"Whether you want another child, one of ours?"

"Actually whether _you _want one. Would you like a son of your own blood?"

"Jean, I already have two sons of my heart," he told her.

That earned him a kiss. "Just as I have the daughter I've always wanted," she said, "but that doesn't mean I wouldn't welcome another child into our lives."

He gave her a gentle smile. "Shall we allow nature to take its course? We won't take steps to prevent a pregnancy, and if it happens, we'll consider ourselves blessed."

"I'm already blessed that we found each other, but yes, I think that's exactly what we should do."

"Good, then that's settled."

She turned the page of the sketchbook to find a drawing of him at about aged four, asleep with one hand tucked under his chin. The look on his face was positively angelic. "Oh, Lucien, you need to show these to everyone. They need to know just how talented your mother was."

He sighed. "I don't think that's a very good idea. Dad might not want to see it. There must have been a reason why he insisted on hiding away all of Mother's work."

"But surely after all this time..."

He smiled at her. "Jean, her studio is still locked up tight, although I plan to address that with him at some point. I would love for Li to see her grandmother's completed artwork. But until I speak with him, I think I should keep these under wraps."

"Such a shame, but I suppose we all deal with grief in our own way."

"Or don't deal with it at all," Lucien said bitterly. "Hide away everything that reminds you, even your son."

Jean laid a soft hand on his forearm. "I suspect he was half out of his mind when he sent you away. To have it happen so suddenly, so unexpectedly. What was it that killed her, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I was told it was complications from surgery."

"Oh? What kind of surgery?" Jean wondered.

"I'm not certain. It must have been an emergency, though. I clearly remember her getting ready for a party that night. She looked, well, I suppose that every young boy thinks his mother is beautiful, but I recall Mother having such a radiance about her." He paused, smiling at the memory, then shook his head. "In any event, I also found her medical file upstairs. I plan to go through it in detail. Maybe I can find some answers there."

"It might give you closure. Maybe even allow you to forgive your father for the mistakes he made. Now, what's in the other books?"

They spent the rest of the evening enjoying the art of Genevieve Ettienne..

* * *

Jean took the boys to school for their first day, with Lucien and Li accompanying them to check out the facilities. Christopher was excited to be returning to a real school, but Jack was apprehensive. The idea of having to sit quietly for hours at a time seemed daunting to the younger boy. Jean had been assured by the principal that both boys' teachers had been made aware of the special circumstances in their past. She only hoped Jack's teacher was understanding.

Li, meanwhile, was trying to look everywhere at once while holding tightly to Lucien's hand. Like Jack, she had never had the opportunity to attend a real school. Her Chinese grandfather had taught her to read, and Lucien had continued to work with her on reading. If anything, she was probably ahead of most of the children her age, but her socialisation with Australian children was limited to the Beazley boys and their Parks cousins.

Lucien himself had enjoyed his time at school in Ballarat, Donald McAvoy not withstanding, and he hoped his daughter would have a similarly pleasant experience.

After Christopher and Jack had been shown to their respective classrooms, Lucien, Jean and Li sat down with the school's principal, Maxwell Patterson.

"As I explained to Mrs. Beazley, our aim here is to produce well-rounded students. We believe that physical education and the arts are important in addition to the more academic subjects," Patterson explained.

"Yes," said Lucien, "but in regard to the academic subjects, I'm interested in your approach to maths and science. I recall that during my own education, they were emphasized for the boys, but not for the girls. I want more for my daughter. I want her to have as many opportunities as possible when deciding on a career."

"As do we, Doctor Blake," Patterson assured him. "The boys and girls take all the same classes, with the exception of home economics for the girls and woodworking for the boys as they get older." He smiled down at Li. "Perhaps Miss Blake would like to see what would be her classroom."

After only a slight hesitation, Li accompanied Patterson's assistant to look in on the class. While she was out of the room, Lucien said, "Are there other children of Asian descent in your school, Mister Patterson? I'm afraid my daughter has already experienced some unfortunate incidents since we arrived in Australia due to her appearance, and I don't want her to see school as a negative atmosphere."

"Unfortunately, we don't have any other Asian children presently. She'll be a bit of a rarity at first, but once the others get to know her, I'm sure it won't be an issue."

Lucien and Jean exchanged a look of concern, but Lucien couldn't see a way around it. Li would look different than most of her classmates no matter which school she attended in Ballarat. It seemed unavoidable.

Li returned to the principal's office excited to start school. "There are many children, and many books. The teacher seems very nice. Can I go to this school, Daddy?" she asked.

"If that's what you want, I think we can make it happen," said Lucien as Li beamed.

"Excellent," said Patterson. "Why don't I get you the paperwork to complete and she can start today?"

* * *

On the way back to the house they went past the Ballarat Cemetery. Lucien's mother had been much on his mind lately, and he knew she was buried there.

"Jean, would you mind terribly if we stopped in, just for a moment? I haven't seen my mother's grave since the day of her burial."

"Of course," she said. "If I'd known we were going to come here I'd have picked some flowers to bring along. Next time."

"Yes, next time," Lucien agreed.

After stopping at the cemetery offices only long enough to get a map of the graves they went inside the grounds. It took a few minutes to reach the gravesite, and when they found it, Lucien was relieved to see it neat and well-tended.

"Your father must come here regularly," Jean noted.

"Yes, Dad or someone else. Fresh flowers," Lucien pointed out. "She hasn't been forgotten."

They stood together, silently, for a long moment, then Jean slipped her hand in Lucien's and they walked back to the car.

"Tell me about her," Jean urged. "What was she like?"

Lucien smiled at the memories. "She was wonderful. So full of life. I'm afraid she probably spoiled me, but we had such fun together. She taught me to draw, of course, and to play the piano. It seemed like she always had time for me. When I close my eyes I can still see her, even after all these years, and I can hear her voice with its slight accent."

"I can tell how much she meant to you," said Jean, squeezing his hand.

"She was my whole world," he admitted. "And then suddenly, with no warning, she was gone."

That evening before going to sleep, Lucien began to study his mother's medical file at length. He was surprised to learn, among other things, that she'd had a miscarriage when he was very young, and the accompanying complications meant she would have no more children. He'd always wondered why he was an only child, and now he knew.

There were other minor complaints, including an allergy to dogs, but nothing to indicate that she was going to die so young. At the very back of the folder was her death certificate signed by Jock Clement. Strangely enough, there was no mention of any type of surgery prior to her death. The whole thing raised more questions than it answered, and Lucien instinctively knew he should only ask his father about it as a last resort.

He closed the file and turned off the light. Sliding more deeply under the covers, he began to consider how he might start looking for the answers he needed.


	16. Chapter 16

With Thomas off to the Masonic Lodge, Lucien at the morgue and the children at school, Jean had thought she would enjoy a morning of peace and quiet before the rush of afternoon surgery hours, but now that it was the third day she'd been on her own, she found she missed the hum and hubbub of a full house. In the past two days she'd done all the cleaning, dusting, laundry, and ironing for the household. She'd changed the bed linens, done the weekly shopping, and made a fresh batch of shortbread for the biscuit tin. She'd even done all the gardening, both outside and in the sunroom. And preparations for the evening's dinner were well in hand.

She sat down for a cup of tea and wondered how she would fill the nearly two hours before Doctor Blake would return to begin seeing patients. Should she just stretch out her housekeeping duties, do them more slowly in future? That seemed lazy and wasteful to her. She considered making a new dress for herself or Li, but she just wasn't in the mood for that.

She had just about decided to take a walk into town to see the greengrocer about excess fruits or vegetables that might be used for canning when the telephone rang.

"Blake residence," she announced as she lifted the receiver.

"Is this Mrs. Beazley?" a young woman's voice inquired.

"Yes, this is Jean Beazley. May I ask who's calling?"

"This is Anna Hopkins, Mister Patterson's secretary. At the school."

Jean stiffened. This couldn't be good news, not when the children had only been at school for a few days. "How can I help you, Miss Hopkins?"

"Mister Patterson wondered if you could come by the school. I'm afraid there's been some trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Jean asked sharply. She had visions of one of the children badly injured.

"Well, um, your son Jack has been fighting with another boy. No one is seriously hurt, but we don't allow fighting of any kind," the secretary explained.

"I'm on my way," said Jean.

She hung up the telephone, removed her apron, and wrote a quick note in case Doctor Blake or Lucien got home before she returned. As she hurried up the road, her first instinct was to be mad at Jack. He'd always been impetuous, but she'd hoped the incident in the camp when he'd been struck by the Japanese guard might have tempered some of his aggression. Then she caught herself, recalling exactly what the boy had been through. It was only natural he'd feel some aggression if he felt threatened in any way. She would wait to hear what he had to say before she passed any judgement on the matter.

She entered the school and headed for the principal's office, and as she approached it, she saw Jack sitting on a chair outside. His eyes were blazing, his jaw jutting defiantly. At least until he saw her; then he seemed to deflate. He bore a prominent bruise on one cheekbone.

"Mum," he greeted her dully.

She grasped his chin to turn his face and examine him more closely. "Are you all right?"

He nodded but lifted a hand to touch the bruise.

"What happened?" she asked, but before he could answer, Principal Patterson emerged.

"Mrs. Beazley."

"Mister Patterson," she returned the greeting.

"Please come in. You, too, Jack."

He showed her to a seat, and she kept an arm around Jack as she sat with him standing beside her.

"Now," Patterson began, "I recognize the difficulties Jack has been through, but we absolutely cannot have any fighting in this school."

"I understand," Jean said. She squeezed her arm more securely around her son.

"Jack has refused to offer an explanation for the incident. I think perhaps it would be for the best if he took the rest of the day off."

Jean gasped, afraid her son was being expelled.

"Don't worry, he's welcome to return tomorrow," Patterson reassured her. "I just want to give him time to reflect on what happened. And he might tell you what happened."

"Thank you, Mister Patterson," said Jean, relieved. "We'll most certainly be talking about it, you can be sure."

"Thank you, Mrs. Beazley, and we'll see you tomorrow, Jack."

Jean took Jack's hand and they headed out the door for the walk home.

In a very small voice, Jack asked, "Are you mad?"

"I'm disappointed," she told him. "I thought we talked about behaviour like that."

"I.. I..." Jack began, and then he clamped his mouth shut.

That wasn't at all like him, Jean thought. Something else seemed to be going on. She would try to get it out of him once they got home.

She sat him down at the kitchen table with a glass of milk and a few biscuits, then sat opposite him with her own cup of tea, waiting for him to talk. Unlike Christopher, Jack could never stand silence for very long.

When he did speak, he utterly surprised her. "Lucien isn't home?"

"No, he's working," she replied, thinking maybe he preferred to speak about it with Lucien..

"Good," Jack said.

She tried to make sense of that response. "Are you afraid he'll be disappointed in you as well?"

"No, I don't..". Again he clammed up.

"Jack, what's going on?" Jean asked gently. It was obvious something had happened to upset the boy, but how Lucien might be involved, she couldn't begin to guess.

He looked like he wanted to tell her very badly, but for some reason he couldn't get himself to do it.

"Are you angry at Lucien?" she probed.

That startled him. "No," he said indignantly, as though the question was absurd, that he could never be angry at Lucien.

"But you're angry at someone. The boy you had the fight with?"

This time he nodded. "I don't like Geoffrey Ledwith," he said firmly.

"Why is that? Did he say something that made you angry?" Jean sensed she was getting closer, but again Jack wouldn't be drawn into saying too much.

"I just don't like him."

"You can't start fighting with everyone you don't like," she said gently. "In your life you'll come across quite a few people you won't like, and that's all right. You don't have to like everyone. But you can't get into fist fights with them just because you don't like them."

"But I... He..." Jack clenched his fists and just shook his head.

"All right. I think you should go up to your room and think about it," she told him.

He stared at her accusingly for just a moment, then pushed away from the table and started for the stairs.

Just as she heard him reach the top, she also heard Doctor Blake's car pull up outside. He would be expecting lunch, and she hadn't even started it yet. There were leftovers she could use for sandwiches. That would have to do.

"Jean," he greeted her as he entered the kitchen.

"Hello, Doctor. I'm afraid I got sidetracked a bit. Are cold pork sandwiches all right with you for lunch?"

"Yes, that sounds lovely," he assured her. "Is everything all right, Jean? You seem somewhat unsettled."

She sighed. "I was called to the school. Jack was in a fight," she explained.

"Oh, dear. Is he all right?"

"Just a bruise and some skinned knuckles. He's upstairs."

"I see. Would you like me to take a look at him?"

"That won't be necessary, but thank you. He needs some time to think it over," she explained. "So far he refuses to say what caused the fight."

"You'll let me know if there's anything I can do to help?"

"Thank you, that's very kind. Now, lunch will be ready in just a few minutes."

* * *

She checked on him a few times in the course of the afternoon, but Jack still wasn't prepared to talk about how the fight had begun. When the other two children arrived home from school, they were equally tight-lipped about the whole affair. Christopher went to his room to practice his flute, while Li appeared very upset and insisted on running upstairs to check that Jack was all right.

They were about to sit down to dinner when Lucien finally made it home. "Victims of an automobile accident," he told Jean quietly. "Three of them to autopsy. Not very pleasant, as you can imagine."

He was just taking his place at the table when he spotted Jack's bruised cheekbone and resulting black eye. "What have we here?" he asked.

When Jack just looked down at his lap, Jean responded for him. "Jack had a confrontation with another boy at school."

"I see," said Lucien. "Maybe I should have a look at him after dinner, just to be sure nothing's broken, unless Dad already has?"

"He's been upstairs all afternoon. This is the first I've seen of him," said Thomas, just a bit defensively.

"He did offer," Jean informed Lucien.

"Well, then, we'll step into the surgery for just a bit, check you out, eh?" he said to Jack.

The boy only nodded, somewhat miserably. Jean still couldn't figure out how Lucien could possibly be involved in whatever had happened, but clearly there was some connection there.

Jack remained nearly silent throughout the meal, and Li was equally so, probably out of solidarity, Jean thought. The two of them had seemed to have an instant connection from the moment Lucien had returned from China with Li.

True to his word, Lucien had escorted Jack into the surgery after dinner. Jean hoped the boy might confide in the man he still saw as his hero, but when they emerged, Jack still looked unhappy and Lucien shook his head when Jean arched a questioning eyebrow.

"No real harm," he said. "A bit tender still, but Jack will be right as rain in just a few days."

"I'm okay," Jack mumbled. Without being told, he went back upstairs, followed almost immediately by Li.

"I'll be up to tuck you in shortly," Jean called to them.

When they were out of sight (and earshot) Jean said to Lucien, "He didn't tell you anything about the fight?"

"Not a word, but, Jean, my darling, boys fight like that all the time."

"Did you?" she countered.

"Not while I was in school here, but in Melbourne, yes, all too frequently. As I mentioned, that's why I took up the sport of boxing."

"Jack will not be taking up boxing," Jean said decisively.

"No, with his temper I wouldn't recommend it. He did seem to be controlling it better of late, though."

"I think that was down to Li's influence. He doesn't want her to be disappointed in him, and she's such a quiet soul anyway," said Jean. "I'll just go up and see them into bed. Why don't you pour us both a drink? I could use one after a day like this."

"I'll do that," said Lucien, kissing her cheek before she went.

She looked in on Christopher first. He was already undressed and under the covers, reading a book. "Good night, sweetheart," she told him quietly, kissing his forehead. "Lights out in thirty minutes, please."

"I don't think I'll last that long even," he told her. "Good night, Mum."

Figuring she'd save Jack for last, she stopped in Li's room next. She was already in bed as well, holding tightly to her stuffed Pooh and looking very unhappy. Jean sat down at the side of the bed and smoothed her shining black hair. "Li, sweetheart," she began but Li broke into tears.

"Please don't punish Jack any more," she pleaded.

"You know that Jack shouldn't have been fighting."

"It's all my fault," Li sobbed. "Jack was fighting because that other boy said mean things to me. I'm sorry, Mummy. Don't punish Jack. Punish me instead."

Jean was at a loss. Why hadn't she figured it out from the way they were both acting?

She called out, "Christopher, would you please run downstairs and ask Lucien to come up here?"

"No," Li wailed. "Daddy will be so upset. That's why we didn't want to tell you."

Jean took the miserable little girl in her arms. "It isn't your fault, or even Jack's. None of it is. Shh now. It's all right,"

She could hear Christopher telling Lucien that Li was crying, and he bounded up the stairs two at a time.

He burst into Li's room and swept her up into his arms. Li wrapped her much smaller arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder. Lucien's eyes were wide with distress as his daughter wept. Jean stood beside them and rubbed a soothing hand along Li's back until finally her sobs began to subside.

When she finally lifted her head from against his shoulder, Lucien held out his handkerchief to her as he sat down upon the bed with her on his lap. At his insistence, Jean remained and sat beside them.

"There, now, what's all this?" he asked gently. "Can you tell me?"

When she didn't respond right away, Jean said, "It might help if we called Jack in here as well."

Lucien nodded, and a moment later she returned with Jack in tow. He immediately went to sit next to Li. "Don't cry," he begged her.

"I told Mummy what happened, Jack," she sniffed.

"It's okay," he assured her. "Just don't cry any more."

"Jack, can you please tell me now?" Lucien begged.

The boy nodded, looking from Lucien to his mother, then back again. "A boy at school, Geoffrey Ledwith, was mean to Li. He called her bad names and made her cry. That's why I had a fight with him."

"It's not Jack's fault, Daddy, it's mine," said Li.

Jean could tell that Lucien was about as angry as she'd ever seen him, but he was forcing himself to remain calm because of the children. "It sounds to me like it was Geoffrey Ledwith's fault," he told them. "What kind of mean things did he say?"

Jack glanced at Li, obviously not wanting to upset her by repeating what had been said to her. "He was like the man in Melbourne, at the park. You remember," he said to Jean.

"All too well," she told him. So it had been racial in nature. Exactly what Lucien had feared.

"Why didn't you tell this to your mother?" Lucien asked gently.

"And to Principal Patterson?" Jean added.

Jack looked down at the floor. "I promised Li," he said in a tiny voice.

All eyes turned to Li as Lucien softly ran his hands up and down her arms. "Why, sweetheart?" he asked. "Why didn't you want us to know?"

Again Li buried her face against him.

Jean looked at Jack for his response. "She thought you'd be upset, Lucien. That maybe you'd want to send her away to keep her away from people like that Geoffrey Ledwith. I don't want her to go. She needs to be here with us!"

Lucien leaned away so that he could look Li in the eye. "You thought I'd send you away?"

Jean could tell his heart was breaking over that.

"Back to Grandfather Zhang," she whispered. "To keep me safe, like before."

Lucien hugged her close to hide from her the tears in his eyes. "Little one, I only did that to save your life. I was in the army then, and they wouldn't let me take you away with me. I will never do that again, you have my word. Wherever you go, I go, at least until you're old enough to be on your own. Until then, we'll figure something out, your mum and I, all right?"

"All right," she said softly, hugging him again.

"That's right," said Jean, rubbing her back. "We're a team now, all of us. We stick together."

"Yes! Like a football team!" said Jack.

"And you, young man," said Lucien, "it was very brave of you to stand up for Li like that. Thank you for being such a good brother to her."

"It was very brave of you," Jean agreed, "and I'll be speaking with Mister Patterson about it tomorrow. But in future, you should get an adult involved if something like that happens. Tell your teacher."

"I'm not a snitch," Jack said indignantly.

"Suppose you just tell your mother or me," Lucien suggested.

"I guess that would be all right," said Jack, looking to Li for confirmation, and she nodded her agreement.

"Well, then, now that's settled, it's time the two of you went to bed," said Jean. "Back to your room, Jack." They left Lucien to tuck Li into bed.

It took a while to get the two children settled down, but finally Jean and Lucien descended the stairs.

"Now I really need that drink," Jean sighed.

Lucien handed it to her and took a big swallow of his own. Then he turned to her, looking completely forlorn. "Li shouldn't have to deal with this," he said in an anguished voice. "What are we going to do?"


	17. Chapter 17

"What are we going to do, Jean?" Lucien asked, his voice filled with anguish. "These things didn't seem to matter in Singapore. Maybe that's where we should go."

"And teach our children to run away from a problem?" Jean inquired, her eyebrow raised. "So far it seems to be just one child, this Geoffrey Ledwith. Do we really want to give this little bully the power to chase us from our home because he picks on our little girl?"

Neither of them had realised Thomas was in the kitchen making himself a last cup of tea before retiring, but upon hearing Jean's comment he made his presence known. "Might I be of some help?" he asked.

"Doctor, we didn't know you were still up," said Jean. "It seems that Jack's fight was actually him trying to stand up for Li against a bully."

"Geoffrey Ledwith, did I hear correctly?"

"Yes, that's right," said Lucien. "Why?"

"Then I _can_ be of some help. His parents are on my list. As it happens, I delivered the boy into this world."

"I don't recall ever seeing them in the surgery," said Jean.

"No, they haven't been in for some time. Not since I treated the father for a rather embarrassing condition, for which treatment he stills owes me a considerable amount of money. I think it's time I followed up with Mister Ledwith, and at the same time I might drop some not so subtle hints that young Geoffrey would do well to leave my granddaughter alone."

"You'd be willing to do that, Dad?" asked Lucien.

"My boy, I would be only too happy to do that. I'd like to prove a better grandfather than I was a father."

Jean was hesitant. "Do you think it's right to take advantage because the family can't afford to pay?" she asked.

"Oh, they can very well afford to pay," said Thomas. "Lionel Ledwith is just a bit of a skinflint. Likes to squeeze every penny for all it's worth.

"Then thank you, Doctor. Let's hope that does the trick," said Jean.

"Oh, I'm quite sure it will do the trick with young Ledwith, but I'm sorry to say he won't be the only one Li will have to deal with."

"It's ignorance, plain and simple," said Lucien. "Ignorance and fear of what they don't know."

"Maybe that's the solution. Teach them more about it," Jean suggested.

Lucien's eyes widened. "Jean, you're brilliant!" Lucien told her, kissing her forehead.

"What are you thinking, son?"

"I'm going to suggest her class be given some kind of program or assignment where the children speak about their ethnic heritage," said Lucien.

"But most of the children in her class will all have the same heritage from the British Isles - English, Scots, Welsh, and a few Irish," Jean pointed out.

"Exactly," said Lucien.

"I'm afraid I'm not following," said Thomas. "How does that help Li?"

"Just imagine ten or twelve kids in a row droning on about Shakespeare and Robbie Burns. Then our Li comes along and tells them about Confucius and Sun Tzu. Who do you think they'll pay more attention to? And if she throws in Charlemagne and Jeanne D'Arc, well, all the better."

"And maybe she could also bring in some samples of food for them to try? Biscuits I think, for young children," suggested Jean.

"Yes, fortune cookies and macarons would certainly go far in winning the children over," said Lucien. "Li is different from her classmates, we can't change that, so why not try to make it an advantage?"

"You know Ballarat as well as anyone, Doctor," said Jean. "What do you think?"

"I think the two of you make an excellent team. And I think it may just work."

"It's not going to cure Ballarat of racism, but it might allow the children of that school to see her in a different light," said Lucien. "I think that's the best we can hope for."

* * *

When Lucien and Jean accompanied the children to school in the morning, they stopped in to see Principal Patterson and relay the real reason Jack had gotten into the fight with young Geoffrey.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am to hear that," Patterson told them. "And the fact that Geoffrey is considerably larger than Li makes it even worse. Not that Jack was in the right to attempt to settle it with his fists, but it is admirable that he was standing up for her."

"Yes, we thought so as well," said Lucien. "Now as to the underlying problem, we'd like to suggest something that may help."

He and Jean laid out their proposition, and Patterson wholeheartedly agreed. "In fact, I may just suggest something similar for all the classes, and the best ones in each class can present to the school at large. I would like to nip this kind of bigotry in the bud so that no student is looked down upon for being different."

"A very noble aim," said Lucien, and they both thanked the man.

Over the next several weeks the three children worked on their presentations. Once each child decided on the area they wanted to talk about, Jean and Lucien helped them with the research. Not surprisingly, Christopher chose to talk about English composers, from Thomas Tallis and Henry Purcell to Ralph Vaughn Williams and Edward Elgar. To make his presentation more interesting, he learned pieces of music from several of them to play on his flute.

Li decided she would discuss both her Chinese heritage and the French one from her grandmother. On the one hand she would talk about the inventions that the Chinese people gave to the world, including paper making, gunpowder, the compass, and printing. Then she would discuss French historical figures, including Joan of Arc, as Lucien had suggested. And to conclude she would pass out the treats that Jean suggested: fortune cookies from Ballarat's only Chinese restaurant and macarons that Jean and Li would make from Genevieve's recipe.

Jack had a much more difficult time deciding what he wanted to talk about. When Thomas suggested English painters, Jack said, rather forcefully, "I'm not English, I'm Australian!" He still remembered well how it felt when they arrived in Australia fresh from the Japanese internment camp, and how glad they all were to arrive.

"Well, then," said Jean, "Why not do something about Australia?"

"Football players," Jack said firmly.

"Or maybe Australian athletes in general?" Lucien suggested. And so Jack began to study about everyone from tennis player Harry Hopman to cricket star Donald Bradman to racehorse Phar Lap. Lucien found him an old set of cards issued by the cigarette company B.D.V. that had pictures of many of those Jack would discuss so he could pass the cards around the class as he spoke.

After Lucien wrote to Li's grandfather in China to tell him about her project, the elderly gentleman sent her something to wear during her presentation, a traditional Chinese cheongsam dress of red silk with an intricate design in gold thread. When Li tried on the lovely garment, it brought tears to Lucien's eyes. He couldn't help but remember that Mei Lin had been wearing something quite similar the first time he saw her at the consul's ball in Singapore.

"Wow! You look beautiful, Li," Jack told her. "Like a princess."

"Yes, you do, sweetheart," said Jean.

Thomas looked at Lucien, and as their eyes met, both recalled the moment years earlier when father had forbidden son to marry 'that foreign girl'. Lucien could clearly see the regret Thomas now felt for that ugly sentiment. After all, if Lucien had not defied him, this beautiful little girl would not exist.

Over the ensuing weeks Lucien and Jean helped the two younger children to write out their speeches, and they listened patiently as all three practiced their presentations. When the big day finally arrived, Jack and especially Li were nervous but determined. As with most things, Christopher took it all in stride.

When the school day ended, Jean and Lucien waited somewhat impatiently for the children to emerge with word of how it had gone. In each class Mister Patterson, the class teacher and a vote from the class members would all count toward deciding whose presentation was the best and would take part in the school-wide programme. Most of the other parents who were waiting to pick up their children were equally excited about the project, especially since the parents of those who were in the final programme would be invited to attend.

Finally the children began to file out of the school, talking excitedly about the day's events. Jack was the first to reach Jean and Lucien.

"How did it go?" Jean asked.

"It was all right. I got mixed up once," he admitted. "Artie Mason was the best anyway."

"Oh? What did he talk about?"

"Monsters," said Jack. "The people who wrote books about Frankenstein and Dracula. It was really great!"

Jean was glad to see he wasn't disappointed that he hadn't won.

Next to arrive was Christopher, carrying his flute case. From the way the other boys were crowded around and clapping him on the shoulder, Jean knew he must have been chosen in his class. The subdued smile on his face only confirmed it.

Nevertheless, she said to him, "Well?"

"I get to be in the big programme," he told her.

"Well done!" said Lucien, as Jean hugged her son.

"I'm so proud of you. Both of you, for all the work you did on this."

"I didn't want to give another speech anyway, but I'm glad Chris won. His speech was really good," said Jack.

"Thanks," said Christopher. "I just hope Li was good, too."

All of their eyes were trained on the doorway where she would exit.

They could hear the shrieks and calls of young girls long before they could see anything of them, but finally Li emerged in the center of the raucous throng. Suddenly, though, they all grew completely silent as an older girl, very pretty with dark brown hair and a confident bearing, approached them. She said something to Li, who nodded in response, then walked away.

"Who's that?" Lucien asked.

"That's Violet Ashby," Christopher told him. "Chief Superintendent Ashby's daughter. She's the most popular girl in the whole school."

Whatever she had said, Li looked pleased, if a bit awed. The rest of the crowd scattered as they neared the waiting parents, and Li walked over to where her family was waiting.

Lucien greeted her first. "Hello, my darling girl. How was it?"

"I think it was good. They all seemed to like it, but it might have been the biscuits."

"And?" Jean prompted her.

"And I get to do it again for the whole school," said Li. "I think I need a lot more biscuits."

Lucien swept her up in his arms and spun about. "Bravo," he told her. "I'm very proud of you, and I can promise you it wasn't just the biscuits they liked."

"What did Violet say to you?" asked Christopher.

"She said she really liked my dress," said Li, smoothing her hands down the silk of the skirt. "And she asked if I wanted to be her friend."

"Wow!" said Christopher, clearly impressed.

"I knew you'd be the best," said Jack.

"We're very proud of all of you," said Lucien.

"We are," Jean agreed. "And to celebrate how hard you've worked I made a chocolate cake for our tea."

Jack's eyes lit up. "Let's go!"

* * *

That evening after all the others had gone to bed, Jean and Lucien sat together on the couch to unpack their day.

"The plan seems to have worked," Lucien observed.

"Yes, and with the most popular girl in the school on her side, I'd say Li should see a much easier time of it for the rest of the year. I wonder if the chief superintendent put her up to it."

"I've never mentioned the problems Li was having to Doug, but he's a pretty sharp fellow, so perhaps," said Lucien. "I think I should tell him what a lovely daughter he has."

"You should," Jean agreed. "Lovely inside and out." She snuggled closer to Lucien. "Now, aren't you glad we decided to stay and face the problem?"

"I've always said you were smarter than me," Lucien told her.

And that called for a kiss.


	18. Chapter 18

The schoolwide programme was held at the end of the school day so that more of the parents could attend to see their children's presentation. Lucien and Jean found themselves sitting beside Doug Ashby, who had come for his daughter Violet. Jean had met Doug several times when he'd been at the house to visit with Thomas, so even though he was an important man in town, and Lucien's boss now, she felt comfortable addressing him.

"Violet seems to be an absolutely lovely girl," Jean told the chief superintendent. "You must be very proud of her."

"Yes, I am," said Doug. "I only wish her mother had lived to see the girl she's become."

"I'm sorry, Doug, I didn't know. You have my deepest sympathies," said Lucien.

"Thank you. It was several years ago, though. She died in childbirth, along with our son," Doug said quietly.

"How sad, for you and for Violet," Jean told him. "That makes Violet's loveliness all the more remarkable."

Doug smiled grimly. "As she gets older, though, she really misses having a mother, someone to teach her and talk with her about all things feminine. As you can imagine, I'm not very good at that."

"I don't know her all that well yet, but if you'd like I can have Li invite her over to the house when we do things together, like baking or making clothes. Li is always talking about Violet, and we're very grateful for the way she's helped Li fit in here at school. I'd like to return her kindness, if I can."

"I'm sure Violet would very much like to visit your home. Thank you, Mrs. Beazley," said Doug. "I hope she'll feel comfortable enough to talk with you. She doesn't really have anyone in her life that fills the bill."

"It would be my pleasure," said Jean.

They all turned their attention to the front of the hall as Principal Patterson took to the stage. The programme began with the presentation by the youngest chid and worked up from there by age. Li was third to perform. She looked tiny as she walked onto the vast expanse of the stage.

Jean and Lucien held their collective breath as she began, but Li was flawless. The Chinese names and phrases had come naturally to her, with the years she'd lived in Shanghai, but she had worked hard with Lucien to perfect her pronunciation of the French names until they rolled easily off her tongue just as easily. When she finished her speech, she gave a little bow and a brilliant smile, which won over the audience completely.

As he applauded with the rest of the people, Doug leaned over to Lucien and said softly, "Your mother would have loved her so much."

"Thank you, Doug," Lucien said softly, tears rising in his eyes. He was sure Doug was correct - his mother would have worshiped her granddaughter.

The boy from Jack's class was next, and he was absolutely adorable, Jean thought. He talked more about the monsters than about the authors who created them, but he was so excited about his topic that his enthusiasm was infectious. It was easy to see why he had won, and why Jack had felt no resentment about it.

The next two presenters were not quite as memorable. One had delivered her speech so many times that now she gave it in an emotionless, singsong cadence, as though she couldn't wait to finish. Following her was a boy obviously unnerved by the size of his audience. He stumbled several times, forgetting his place, and then finally rushed through the last of it to get to the end. The applause for both was polite, if subdued. Jean feared the people were getting restless for the programme to be over.

As if he sensed the same thing, Christopher as the next presenter changed up his speech somewhat. He started with a tune on his flute, rather than introducing the composer first. He played Elgar's rousing _Pomp and Circumstance March No. 1 in D_ which drew immediate interest and recognition from the audience members. On the fly, he adjusted his whole presentation to keep their interest. Lucien and Jean were both amazed and impressed with his skill at reading the crowd. He drew loud applause when he had finished.

Then it was Violet's turn. Her topic was Florence Nightingale and how she had revolutionized the nursing profession. Violet described her work with wounded soldiers in the Crimean War, her fight to make her voice heard in the male-dominated field of medicine, and her writings to educate the public on medical matters. Violet's passion on the subject showed through, and she received a warm ovation.

"Brava!" Lucien said, just loud enough for Doug to hear. "Well done, indeed."

"Violet intends to be a nurse when she grows up," Doug explained. "She's wanted it since she was small and hasn't wavered."

"Good for her," Jean said approvingly. She could remember a time when as a young girl she herself had been drawn by the notion of becoming a nurse, and then a teacher, and later a writer. Housekeeping had never been a consideration, but now caring for her extended family felt just as rewarding as any of those other occupations.

With the programme then at an end, she and Lucien gathered up the children, ready to leave. Christopher, Li and Violet were comparing notes on their presentations, while Jack stood beside them, listening and nodding. Jean was just as proud of him for the way he had supported the others rather than sulking or resenting that he wasn't a part of it.

Lucien noticed it too and felt much the same. "What do you say we stop at the ice cream parlour before we head home?" he suggested. "Doug and Violet, we'd be happy to have you join us."

Violet looked up at her father so hopefully that it would have been difficult for him to refuse. "Yes, all right," he said. "Thank you for including us."

It seemed many of the other parents had had the same idea: the parlour was quickly filling up when they arrived, but they were immediately shown to a table large enough to accommodate them all. Having the police chief superintendent in your party seemed to have its advantages.

They all placed their orders, then while waiting for the treats to arrive the children received permission to go over to another table where several of their friends were seated.

"Thomas wasn't interested in coming to watch the programme?" Doug asked Lucien.

"I believe he would have been with us except that he was needed to make a house call just before we left," Lucien explained.

"I see. That sounds like him. Your father is a good man," Doug began, "but we all loved your mother."

Lucien looked up at him. "You knew her, then."

"Very well, as a matter of fact." His eyes glazed over, remembering. "Geneviève was a force of nature."

"She always seemed like that to me, but I was very young at the time she died," said Lucien. "As a matter of fact, I've been looking at her medical files just recently, trying to put together what happened to her. What I was told about it doesn't quite fit with what I see there."

"No, it wouldn't," said Doug slowly.

"But you know what really happened to her?" asked Jean.

"I know some of it, and I suspect quite a bit more."

"What can you tell me about it? Please," said Lucien.

"First you'll need to tell me what you were told," said Doug.

"I was told she died from complications after surgery of some kind, but I distinctly remember seeing her get ready for a party the evening she died. She was positively radiant, as I recall. Granted, that doesn't mean something couldn't have gone wrong very quickly, but she certainly didn't look to be in poor health."

"No, she wasn't in poor health," Doug confirmed. "I was at that party, and you're exactly right. She was radiant that evening."

"Then what happened?" asked Jean. She clasped Lucien's hand.

"What has Thomas said to you about that night?" Doug asked

"Not a damned thing," said Lucien. "Even after all this time he won't let me bring it up at all. He refuses to speak about it whatsoever. He even refuses to let anyone into her studio. It's been locked tight ever since we lost her."

At that moment their ice cream orders arrived, which brought the children running back to claim them and brought the conversation to an abrupt end, but Doug leaned across the table to speak quietly to Lucien. "Bring the medical files to my office when you can, and I'll tell you what I know for a fact. The rest you may need to work out for yourself."

Lucien nodded. "Thank you, Doug. I'll do that."

The chatter of the children chased away thoughts of the tragedy from so long ago, but Lucien was more determined than ever to find the truth behind his mother's sudden, unexpected demise. Perhaps the truth might finally bring him a measure of peace after all this time.


	19. Chapter 19

_My most sincere apologies for the delay. Real life is rudely intruding at the moment. Here's a little something to help. I'm hoping to update "Blues" over the weekend._

The day following the school programme was a beautiful autumn day, with the sun shining on the gold and orange leaves of the trees.

Lucien was up early as Jean prepared breakfast. "What do you have planned for this glorious day?" he asked after kissing her cheek by way of greeting.

"I'm afraid we'll have a full house. Mary got called into work so she asked if she could drop Amy and Danny here for the day. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Lucien assured her. "I might just take the boys off your hands. It seems like a perfect day for fishing at the lake. I'm told Danny was a bit jealous when he heard Chris and Jack had been last month, so I think he'd like to join us. I'm sure you can entertain the girls."

"I was going to make a cake for the church festival, but I suppose I might as well make one for us at the same time since I'll have a pair of helpers," said Jean. "Oh, maybe I'll suggest to Li that we have Violet over as well. What do you think?"

"I think Li would like that very much, and I suspect Violet would as well. Maybe later we could take the lot of them to the children's matinee at the cinema."

"If we do, you and I will have to take the seats at either end. No canoodling, I'm afraid," said Jean, her eyes twinkling.

Lucien heaved a large feigned sigh. "The sacrifices we make for our children..."

Jean leaned over to kiss his cheek. "We'll still have our evening, after they go to bed," she said softly.

Before he could respond, Christopher walked into the kitchen. "Good morning," he said in his quiet manner.

"Good morning," said Lucien. "I was just telling your mother that it's a perfect day to go fishing. What do you say?"

Christopher managed a smile and nodded. "Yes, please. Danny, too?"

"Of course, Danny too. We couldn't leave Danny behind."

"What about Li? And Amy?" Christopher always wanted to be fair to everyone.

"Don't worry," said Jean. "I have something special planned for Li and Amy. And Violet, if her father let her come over."

Christopher's eyes lit up. "Violet is coming to our house?"

"I was going to call her father later and ask him," said Jean.

Lucien glanced at his watch. "Doug is probably at the station by now. He goes in early on Saturdays to catch up on paperwork. You might want to call him there. You can tell him I'll drive over to pick up Violet if he agrees."

"Can I go with you?" Christopher asked. "To pick her up?"

"I don't see why not."

Lucien winked at Jean. It seemed Christopher might have a schoolboy crush on Violet Ashby.

He confirmed it as Lucien drove out to the Ashby home. "You love my mum, right, Lucien?" the boy began.

"I do, with all my heart," Lucien confirmed.

That brought a slight smile to Christopher. "But how did you first know it? That it was really love, I mean."

"It's difficult to explain, Chris. Part of it was that I missed her so very much every time we were separated. I was always looking forward to the next time I'd see her. Then later, when we were apart for much longer, I felt like a piece of me was missing. And she always made me want to be a better man so I'd be worthy of her."

Christopher nodded. "I think I feel some of that towards Violet," he said quietly.

"She seems to be a lovely girl. I can understand why you feel that way. When you get to know her better, I'd say your feelings toward her will probably change, one way or the other."

"What do you mean?"

"Either you'll want to see even more of her, or you'll decide she's not really the one for you. Or you might even decide you just want to be friends with her. And of course she'll be making her own decisions about you. Just give it time to work itself out."

"I guess that makes sense," said Christopher. "Thank you. And Lucien?"

"Yes?"

"You said Mum makes you want to be a better man. I think you're the best man I know."

His pronouncement made Lucien choke up. "Thank you, Christopher. And I think Violet is a lucky girl that you're fond of her."

* * *

With Lucien and the three boys headed off to the lake for fishing, Jean sent the girls out to the garden to play while she did the cleaning and straightening up around the big house. Amy had brought her jump rope with her, determined to teach Li how to do it, now that they had Violet to hold the other end of the rope. As Jean glanced out the window to check on them, she saw the problem they still had: with the other girls twirling the rope it was difficult to show Li exactly when to jump. She put away the broom and dustpan then went out to see if she could help. She thought if she held an end of the rope, one of the other girls could jump with Li.

Amy had a different idea. "Auntie Jean, my mum said you used to be the best skipper in Ballarat. Could you show Li how to do it?"

Jean laughed. "That was a very long time ago. You or Violet would be better at it now."

"That's all right, Mrs. Beazley, we'll do the rope for you," Violet said.

Li looked up at her with those big dark eyes that were just as expressive as her father's. "Please, Mummy?"

"Oh, very well," said Jean. "Li, honey, take my hands and we'll jump together. Remember, you have to start to jump before the rope gets to your feet. Ready?"

Li nodded, grinning happily.

Violet and Amy began chanting the rhyme. "Bluebells, cockleshells, eevy, ivy, over..."

With Jean's help, Li caught on quickly and was soon doing it on her own. Which was just as well, since Jean found herself quite out of breath in a short while. She stayed on to help twirl the rope so all three girls could have a turn at skipping.

When they were all hot and tired, Jean suggested they retire to the shade of the house for a drink of water and a biscuit or two.

"Are we still going to make cakes?" Li asked as they sat down at the kitchen table.

"Yes, we start as soon as you finish your biscuits," said Jean as she fixed herself a cup of tea.

"My father loves cake, but our housekeeper doesn't like to bake," said Violet.

"Then we'll have to send a big piece for him home with you, won't we?" said Jean.

Seeing her chance, Amy said, "My brother really likes cake, too."

"Yes, I know he does, and that's why your mother bakes all the time," Jean pointed out.

Amy shrugged. It had been worth a try.

"Mrs. Beazley, can I ask you something?" Violet wondered.

"Yes, of course," said Jean.

"Is it true that you were a prisoner of the Japanese during the war?"

Jean took a deep breath. That wasn't the kind of question she'd been expecting, but of course Li and Amy already knew about it. "Yes, it's true," she told Violet.

"Christopher and Jack, too?"

"Yes." She glanced down at Li. "That's where we met Li's father. He was also a prisoner."

"Was it very terrible?"

"Very terrible," Jean confirmed, wondering how much to tell these young girls. She suspected that Li had seen some equally horrible things in China during the occupation, but Li had not yet shared them with Lucien and he was reluctant to probe those wounds unless the girl brought it up herself.

"It's just that I like Christopher. Well, I like all of you really, but that's why I wanted to understand what happened," Violet admitted.

"I see," said Jean. "Then you should know how brave and strong Christopher was the whole time. He looked out for his little brother, and especially when we were sick he watched over both of us."

"He doesn't say much about it," said Violet.

"It's difficult to talk about or to explain to someone who wasn't there. We were hungry all the time, and usually afraid of what might happen to us. There were a few people though, people like Li's father, who tried to make it better for everyone else."

Li spoke up. "Daddy says you helped a lot of people, too. He said your garden kept people from starving. He said you're a hero."

Jean blushed. She'd had no idea Lucien had told Li about her garden. "Your father is a very kind man," said Jean. "I'm sure he hasn't told you about his own heroics though."

"No, only about you and Chris and Jack." She turned to Violet and Amy. "Jack told a Japanese soldier he was a bad man."

"Really?" Amy was most impressed.

"That's right. And Jack was only four years old at the time," Jean pointed out. "The soldier hit him for saying that."

"Jack told me that's when you met Daddy. He says you only met because of him," said Li.

"In a way," said Jean. "Your father came over to our camp to check on Jack." She smiled at the thought of the close bond Jack and Li had formed almost immediately upon meeting. They always stood up for each other, just as brother and sister should.

"Is Jack a hero too?" asked Li.

"Yes, I suppose he is," said Jean.

"Just don't tell him that," said Amy. "We'll never hear the end of it."

Jean stood up. "All right, enough of that. Now who's ready to help me make some cakes?"

* * *

The children went to bed early that evening, worn out from their busy day. As they sat together over their last cup of tea before retiring to their own beds, Jean told Lucien about the conversation she'd had with the girls.

"Did Li offer anything about her war experiences?" Lucien asked as he sat beside her on the couch.

"No, I'm afraid not. I wonder if she's told Jack anything. She said he told her some of what he went through in the camp."

"I don't think she's told Jack anything. He would have said something if she had. You know Jack."

"Yes, he and secrets have never been great friends," said Jean. "I was thinking though, that some evening we should all talk about the war. I've noticed how desperately your father wants to know the truth of what we went through, but he doesn't want to risk upsetting us so he won't ask. And Li also seems to want to know. It would reassure her to hear you say for certain that she was uppermost in your mind all the time the two or you were apart. And it might make her more willing to talk about her own experiences."

Lucien sighed. It was the last thing in the world he wanted to think about, but if Jean thought it might help Li, he supposed he could endure it. "All right, if we must," he said. "You don't think it will upset the boys?"

"Are you kidding? By the end of the evening Jack will have Li thinking he won the war singlehandedly," Jean said.

"When we all know it was his mother who did."

"Lucien, just what have you been telling these children?" Jean demanded to know.

"Only the truth," he said, putting her hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. "That the woman who has agreed to marry me is absolutely amazing in every way."

"Hmm, that's quite a coincidence, because that's what I feel about the man who asked me to marry him," she replied, leaning closer to kiss him.

"Oh, really?" he murmured. "Well then..."

And it was quite a while before either of them felt the need to speak again.


	20. Chapter 20

_Warning for talk of graphic violence and sexual assault_

The very next day, after dinner, Jean found the opening to begin the discussion of their war experiences.

Thomas was reading the newspaper. "They just found another Japanese war criminal hiding in the Malaysian jungle," he commented. "Authorities say the man was a prison camp guard who committed atrocities against internees as the war was ending."

"Do they say his name? Or which camp he worked at?" asked Lucien, wondering if they might know the man.

"No, I'm afraid it doesn't mention either one," said Thomas.

Jean spoke up. "As strange as it seems, we were lucky in a way. Our guards just walked away in the middle of the night once they knew they had lost the war. Some of the stories that came out from other camps were just horrific."

Lucien, who had not been in camp when the Japanese surrendered, only nodded. The work detail where he'd been at the time had seen its own share of atrocities. He looked over to see his father watching him closely. He decided he'd better help Jean out with this project of hers. "As you'll recall, I wasn't there at the time. What happened? How did you know the guards were gone?"

"I remember waking up that morning and thinking how quiet it was," Jean told him. "I went outside to see what was going on. Patrick Tyneman was also outside with another man I didn't know at the time. I think his name was Mister Knowles. Anyway, they had noticed that the guard towers were empty. Then we saw that the front gate was also deserted, and the military vehicles were all gone."

"What did you do?" asked Thomas.

Jack grinned. "We had a feast!"

"We had all been hungry for months," Jean explained, "so one of the first things we did was check out the storeroom to see if the guards had left any food behind. And they had, so Patrick organized the other men to carry it all out to the camps where the women used some of it to make the best meal we'd had in over a year."

"It was great," Jack enthused. "And that's when Christopher told me about ice cream."

The others all laughed about Jack and his ice cream.

"Daddy, where were you?" Li asked.

"About a week before that, most of the soldiers in the camp were sent out into the jungle. We didn't know where we were going or what would happen to us."

"Was that when you wrote the letter that Jean brought to me?" asked Thomas.

"It was," said Lucien. "There seemed to be every likelihood that I wouldn't survive, and since I didn't know that my dearest Li was with her other grandfather, I had to be sure that someone who had the means to find her would know enough to look for her."

Li was on the floor, sitting cross legged near his feet. He reached down to run a hand over her shining hair. "There wasn't a single day that you weren't in my thoughts," he assured her.

"Even when you were in that hole in the ground?" Jack asked.

"Most especially then," said Lucien.

"Hole in the ground?" Thomas said slowly, as though he weren't quite sure if he really wanted to know more, but felt it his duty as a father to ask.

"Lucien was punished by being locked up in a small box in the ground," Jean said soberly.

Again Thomas looked like he didn't really want to know any more but felt he had to ask. "Punished for what? And for how long?"

"For forty long, horrible days," said Jean. "Lucien, I don't think you ever told me what the punishment was for."

Lucien hesitated. After all this time there was no need for Jean to know he'd been trying to help her when he'd been captured. "I was trying to get some much-needed food for a patient," he said, hoping his explanation didn't sound too evasive.

"I knew it had to be something like that," said Jean, "that you were trying to help someone. Was it your friend Derek?"

"No, not Derek," he said. "Dad, that's when Jean literally saved my life. I would have become completely insane except for her singing. Each afternoon or evening she would sing something. You can't imagine how I looked forward to that. It got me through the day, waiting to hear what she would sing."

Thomas looked to Jean, his eyes shining with sincerity. "Thank you, my dear. Thank you for giving my son the opportunity to return here, and with our darling Li, too."

"Yes, our darling Li," said Lucien. "When things were at the lowest point, I would think about my darling Li." He leaned closer to her. "Do you remember the garden we had at the house in Singapore? It's all right if you don't. You were very young at the time."

"I remember all the flowers," Li said slowly. "You used to tell me their names. The names were funny."

"Is that right?" asked Jean, recalling when they were in the sunroom and Lucien declared he knew next to nothing about flowers.

He chuckled. "I made up all those names because I knew they would make you laugh. I'm very glad you remember that. That's one of the times I used to think about when I was in that box."

Li turned and stood up to crawl into his lap, and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "So you see, you helped me, too, even when I didn't know where you were or if you were safe."

She hugged him fiercely. When she spoke, her voice was so tiny he had to strain to make out what she was saying. "I was in a box too, Daddy."

He took a deep breath to steady his own voice as he braced himself for what he feared she was going to say. "Were you, my darling?" he said very softly.

She buried her face against his waistcoat and nodded her head.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

With her face still hidden she began. "Laolao and I were home. Laoye was out looking for food."

Lucien quietly translated for the others. "Laolao is maternal grandmother, Laoye is grandfather."

Li nodded again and continued. "The Japanese soldiers came and pounded on the door. Laolao told me to hide from them in the little cupboard under the sink and not to come out until she called me."

She tried to burrow deeper into Lucien's chest, so he tightened his embrace of her.

"I couldn't see what was happening when I was in there, but I could hear Laolao. I heard her tell them 'no'. She said it many times." The little girl started to sob. "Then she started screaming. I heard a sound like someone hitting her, then I didn't hear her any more. I heard the men laughing and saying terrible things about Laolao. I wanted to help her but she didn't call to me. She didn't say anything. So I stayed there until it was dark. I didn't help her," Li sobbed.

"Shh," said Lucien, rocking her gently. "You did help her the only way you could - by not letting them hurt you, too. All she wanted was to keep you safe, my darling girl. If you had tried to help Laolao against the soldiers they might have killed you, too, and that wouldn't have helped anyone."

He tried to focus on his daughter, to block out the horrifying mental images of what those men might have done to Li if she had come out of her hiding place.

"You did exactly the right thing," he assured her. "Exactly the right thing."

She continued to sob for several minutes before she went on. "When it was dark, I heard someone come into the kitchen. I thought the soldiers came back until I heard him start crying. Then I knew it was Laoye. I called to him. He told me to wait before I came out. I think he went to get the blanket to cover up Laolao. When he said I could come out all I saw was the blanket with a lot of blood on it and I knew Laolao was dead."

"I am so sorry," said Lucien, stroking her hair once more. "So sorry that you went through that and so sorry you lost Laolao."

Lucien looked around at the others, who were just as stunned and horrified as he felt at what Li had described. He'd had no idea that's how his mother-in-law had died. He needed to write to Father Zhang first thing in the morning, to express sympathy once again as well as to thank him for seeing Li through such trauma. Perhaps Li would like to write to him as well. But for now he would focus on his daughter.

He continued to hold her tight as her sobs began to subside.

Sweet, gentle Christopher who was always looking after others, spoke up, trying to make Li feel better. "Sometimes soldiers like to hurt women," he said. "One was hurting my mum."

Jean inhaled sharply. She looked at Lucien, and the pain she felt at remembering the night she'd been assaulted was reflected in his eyes. She'd almost forgotten that Christopher had witnessed a part of it.

Li turned her head to look at Jean for confirmation, and Jean felt she had to say something to allay the little girl's fear.

"It was terrible, but it could have been so much worse. My brave son shouted at the soldier to make him stop what he was doing to me. And it brought out other people to see what was going on. If Christopher hadn't yelled, I don't know what would have happened to me."

"Well done, young man," said Thomas, causing Christopher to duck his head in embarrassment.

As Lucien watched her, Li seemed to be digesting what had been said.

"Daddy, you were a soldier, weren't you?" she said very softly.

"Yes, I was. Why do you ask?"

"Did you hurt women when you were a soldier?"

"No, my darling. Not all soldiers were bad. Some were, because some men are bad. Soldiers are just people, some are bad but also many are good," he assured her.

"That's right, sweetheart," said Jean. "Your father saved people's lives. He helped them."

Jack spoke up. "I remember the soldiers who came after the guards ran away. They gave us food and chocolate, and they let us play on their lorries. They weren't bad. They were good!"

That seemed to satisfy her. If Jack said it, it must be true. She leaned against Lucien once more and wrapped her arms around him. In response, he hugged her as well.

"I knew you weren't a bad man, Daddy," she whispered softly.

"Of course not," said Jean, smiling at Lucien. "He helped me after the bad soldier attacked me. He made me feel better."

She noticed a strange look he wore. Compassion, yes, but something else, too. Worry? Anxiety? Almost like he was afraid of something. When he noticed her watching him he gave a quick, forced smile, then turned his attention back to Li. What didn't he want her to know, Jean wondered.

And then the penny dropped. He had said he was trying to get food for a patient when he was caught and punished. That was immediately after he'd treated her for the assault injuries. He'd done it for her. He'd been caught stealing food for _her_.

She couldn't suppress the sob that escaped her as she realised he'd endured that suffering for trying to help her.

At the sound, he looked up sharply, his eyes filled with pain. He had never wanted her to know.

Thomas must have heard her sob. "Jean, are you all right?" he asked.

She swallowed in an attempt to gain hold of herself. "Yes, I'm fine," she insisted. "But it's getting late. Time for bed, I think."

"I'll see to them," Lucien quickly offered, standing up with Li still in his arms.

"All right," said Jean. She wasn't sure she could face any more questions about the war just now anyway. "Good night, you lot. Don't forget to brush your teeth."

Lucien shot her one more concerned look as he headed up the stairs.

"Another cup of tea, Doctor?" she asked Thomas, wanting something useful to do while she waited for Lucien to return.

"I don't think so, thank you. I have some medical journals to read, so I'll just say good night as well. And Jean, I'm so sorry you had to go through all that. I'm also very glad you and Lucien found each other in the midst of that horror and could help each other through it."

She could only nod her thanks and wish him a good night.

Upstairs Lucien sat on the edge of the bathtub as he watched the three children wash up and brush their teeth.

Christopher rinsed the toothpaste from his mouth, then said softly. "I'm sorry about your grandmother, Li."

"Thank you," said Li.

"Was she a nice lady?" Jack asked.

"Yes, very kind and very wise." She looked to Lucien for affirmation.

"Yes, she was indeed," he said. "I wish you could have known her for longer. She could have taught you many things."

"You're lucky that you got to know her," said Jack. "I never had a grandmother, but I'm glad you did."

Li just nodded at that.

They finished up in the bathroom and headed for their separate bedrooms. Lucien saw the boys into their beds, telling each of them that if they had bad dreams or just woke up in the night and wanted to talk they should knock on his door.

As he was leaving Jack's room, the boy said, "Lucien, the war was really bad, but I'm glad we met you and you're going to marry Mum."

"Thank you, Jack. I'm glad of that as well. Good night."

Li was just climbing under the covers when he entered her room to tuck her in. "We can read a story if you'd like," he offered. "Something cheerful?"

"Not tonight, Daddy. I'm very sleepy," she told him.

"All right, my darling girl." He leaned down to kiss her brow, and she reached up her arms to give him a quick hug. "I hope you have sweet dreams, but just in case you don't, you can come to see me, all right?"

"All right," she said. "Daddy, do you think Laolao can see me from heaven?"

Lucien had lost his religion long ago, and he didn't like lying to his daughter. "I don't know for certain, but I do know that if she can, she must be very proud of the lovely person you've become. Just as I am."

That brought a sweet smile. "Good night, Daddy."

"Good night, dearest girl."

He closed her bedroom door and headed for the stairs, and the conversation he knew he had to have with Jean.


	21. Chapter 21

Jean was still shaken at the realisation that Lucien's severe punishment in the prison camp had resulted from an attempt to help _her._ Sometimes it seemed like it had all happened in another life, but she knew he still bore the scars, both physical and mental, of what had been done to him. He always insisted that her singing had saved his life. If she'd known the truth, however, she could have done so much more. She would have sung all day long for him. She would have organised a choir. She would have...

All well and good now, when it was much too late. Why didn't she figure it out then, when it would have truly mattered? Hadn't he said something about pineapple being the best thing for her? It had some kind of healing properties, if she recalled correctly. Is that what he'd been after when he was caught?

Trying to calm herself down so she could talk about it rationally with Lucien, she went into the kitchen to make tea. They needed to have this conversation tonight, before it had a chance to fester.

She could hear him moving around upstairs, going between the bedrooms to see that all three children were properly tucked into bed. He treated them all as his family. He had cared for the boys practically since the moment he met them, just one of the things she loved about him.

When the tea was ready she poured out the two cups and placed them on opposite sides of the table so she could face him for this conversation. She needed to look into his eyes as she asked him if all the pain he'd undergone had been for her sake.

Clearly Lucien had other ideas about this conversation. He entered the kitchen when she was already seated, and he moved the cup meant for him to the place beside hers and slid into the chair next to her. Then he reached for her hand.

She didn't need to ask the question though. He brought it up himself. "Yes, it's true," he said. "I was trying to get a can of pineapple from the guards' storehouse when I was caught. And yes, it was for you. But no, you are absolutely not to blame for what happened."

"Are you saying that if I hadn't been attacked, if I wasn't injured, you would have done it anyway?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all. First of all, it wasn't your fault that you were attacked. You were saving lives when it happened. My men's lives, in point of fact. What I'm saying is that I was stupid for even trying to break into the stores," he insisted. "I was warned that it was crazy and foolish, but I went anyway."

He paused and looked down at their joined hands. "I'm also afraid that my stupidity got Henry Dent killed."

"And just how do you reach that conclusion?" Her voice was gentle, trying to understand his reasoning.

"If I hadn't done it first, Henry wouldn't have tried it, and the guards wouldn't have punished him so severely. They wouldn't have shot him."

Jean would have none of that. "So you're telling me I shouldn't feel guilty that you were caught stealing something to help me, but you get to feel guilty for showing Henry that it was a stupid thing to try? Do you even hear yourself, Lucien?"

She took his hand in both of hers and waited until he met her eyes. "I'll make a deal with you: I won't feel guilty about what happened in that camp if you promise me you won't either. The only ones guilty are the guards who actually performed those acts of cruelty."

"You're right, of course, my dear. None of us deserved those things that happened to us. And we can't let them define the rest of our lives. We deserve to be happy, and so we shall be. All of us."

He leaned over to kiss her, and Jean eagerly responded. Yes, they would be happy, and that would be their ultimate victory over their former captors.

* * *

But the night did not prove to be a happy one for the blended family. Jack was the first to awaken, from nightmares of the camps. Lucien, having one of his sleepless nights, heard him cry out and went to check on the boy. He sat on Jack's bed and gave him a hug until he calmed down.

Christopher was roused by the disturbance and put his head around the doorway. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

"Jack had a bit of a bad dream," Lucien told him.

"I dreamed about the guard again," said Jack. "He was hitting all of us."

"Why don't you come into bed with me?" Christopher suggested. "Like when we first got here."

"Would that make you feel safer?" Lucien asked Jack.

Jack nodded. "Chris always makes me feel safe."

"Chris is a very good brother," said Lucien. "Thank you, Christopher."

Christopher looked embarrassed at the praise, but he put an arm around Jack's shoulders as he guided him to the other bedroom.

After closing the bedroom door behind them, Lucien went back to his own room and was just settling in once more when another cry split the silence. This time it came from Li.

Both Jean and Lucien went into her room, where the little girl was awake but sobbing. Quickly Lucien gathered her into his arms, while Jean ran a soothing hand down her back until gradually the sobs subsided.

"You're safe now, my darling girl," Lucien assured her. He couldn't tell her it was just a bad dream since he knew she was probably reliving what happened when her grandmother was killed.

"I think we're all having bad dreams tonight," Jean told her.

Li turned to look up at her. "You had a bad dream, too, Mummy?"

"Yes, I had a bad dream, too," Jean confirmed.

"So did Jack," Lucien told her. "He's sleeping with Christopher now. Would you like to come sleep with me, Princess?"

"Yes, please," said Li at once, holding tight to the front of his pyjamas. "You should come, too, Mummy."

Jean's eyes opened wide at the suggestion. She looked at Lucien.

"There's plenty of room, and you're more than welcome," he told her. "Li can sleep between us."

Jean hesitated, but Lucien could see that a trace of her own nightmare imaginings still haunted her. "Yes, all right, if that will make you feel safer, sweetheart," she said at last.

Li nodded.

Lucien smiled softly at his two beautiful girls. "Come along then," he urged.

He carried Li, who clung to her beloved Pooh, while Jean led the way.

Once in his bedroom, he pulled aside the covers for them to slip in, then he got into bed as well. Li settled herself, snuggling in between the two people she trusted most to keep her safe. To reassure herself, she again clutched the edge of Lucien's pyjamas jacket.

Over the top of her head, Lucien's eyes met Jean's, and they exchanged a tender smile.

"Good night, my loves," he said softly.

An hour later he was still awake, processing the evening's revelations. Li had cuddled deeper into the bed, while Jean had snuggled closer until her head rested on Lucien's shoulder. He thought to himself that before long they might be sleeping every night with her head on his shoulder. It couldn't come soon enough for him. That thought guided him gently into sleep.

* * *

The night's terrors were quite forgotten with the sunrise. The children got ready for school as usual, and Lucien offered to take them in the car. "I'm going to stop by the station anyway," he said. "I have to drop a file off for Doug. Dad, I'll have the car back shortly, in case you need it. You know, it's really past time I got one of my own, now that I'm working."

"Take your time, son," said Thomas. "I have surgery hours all day today."

"All right, you lot," said Jean. "Off you pop. Have a good day at school."

A chorus of "bye, Mum" floated back over their shoulders as they followed Lucien out to the car. When he pulled up to the front of the school, he turned sideways to address the children.

"I know we had an uncomfortable night last night. Is there anything you need to talk about before you go into school?" he asked them.

"I hated that camp," Jack said fiercely. "We were always hungry. And the guards were mean. And we couldn't go anywhere. And there was never anything to do."

"Yes, that's right," Lucien agreed.

"It was really bad," said Christopher, "but one good thing happened there."

"What?" asked Jack.

"We met Lucien, and Mum met Lucien. If we didn't get to live in Doctor Blake's house Mum didn't know what would happen to us. Now we have a nice home, and we have Lucien and Li as our family. That was a good thing," he pointed out.

"That was a really good thing," Jack agreed.

"I think so, too," said Li. "I like having a new mum and my brothers."

"Your mother would probably tell you that it proves something good can come from even the worst situations," said Lucien. "Li, what about you? Are you all right to go to school, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Daddy. I like school," she insisted. "No one is unpleasant now, not since Violet became my friend."

"I'm glad to hear that. All right, then, on your way." Lucien quashed the sudden notion to tell them to "Do your best" as he remembered how much he disliked his father saying that to him as a boy.

When they were safely in the schoolyard, he drove on to the police station. He parked the car and then, file in hand, he went inside to see Doug Ashby.

Doug was just finishing up a phone call so he waved Lucien into the seat beside his desk.

He placed the receiver in its cradle and turned his focus to Lucien. "Good morning, Lucien. I want to thank you and Mrs. Beazley for taking Violet on Saturday. She can't stop talking about what a good time she had."

"That was mostly Jean's doing. She and Li were delighted to have Violet visit. I'm sure there will be more invitations. Violet is a lovely girl."

"She says the same about Li. Now, I'm sure you didn't come in this morning to talk about our daughters, and since there's no ongoing investigations requiring your expertise, I'm assuming you want to talk about your mother."

Lucien smiled grimly. "Yes. As a matter of fact, I brought in the file I told you about."

"Does your father know you're looking into this?" Doug asked as he reached for his glasses and took the file Lucien held out.

"Not yet," Lucien admitted. "I thought I'd wait to see if it went anywhere before I brought him into the picture."

"I see. Just don't wait too long to tell him what you're doing," Doug warned. "He shouldn't hear about it from anyone else."

"No, of course not," said Lucien.

Doug opened the file and began to read while Lucien sat back to wait. He reached the end, then flipped back to double check something before handing the file back to Lucien.

"What do you think?" Lucien asked him.

Instead of answering, Doug asked him a different question. "Did you know there was an autopsy report? I don't see a copy in there."

"I suspected there must have been an autopsy performed, since she died so suddenly," said Lucien. "Do you know how I'd go about getting a copy of it?"

"As it happens," said Doug. He opened a drawer in his desk, shuffled through some folders, and removed a single sheet of paper. Handing it to Lucien he said, "Do you recognize the author?"

Lucien looked at the signature on the bottom first. "Neville Franklin. I think Dad's mentioned him."

"He may well have. Franklin's a member of the Masons, as is Jock Clement, who signed the death certificate."

"Yes, and so is Dad, and you too, Doug, if I'm not mistaken," Lucien pointed out. "Are you suggesting there's some connection between the Masons and my mother's death?"

"Not directly, but let me ask, do you know where your parents went that night?"

"It was a party of some sort, as I recall."

"That's right. A party at the Masonic Lodge," said Doug.

Lucien was startled. "You're sure?"

"I was there that night," said Doug. "And I'll bet you can guess who 'found' her body."

"Jock Clement? Or Neville Franklin?"

"Both of them," Doug confirmed. "Or so they said. Lucien, I can tell you I've suspected foul play on the part of one or both of them all these years. I've just never been able to find any proof, or at least enough to charge either of them."

Lucien was stunned. "This says she died of a seizure. I don't recall ever hearing anything about my mother having seizures. How do you think she really died, Doug?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say poison of some kind. The only way to prove it, though, would be to exhume the body and have independent tests done."

"Dad would never allow that," Lucien said, with no doubt in his mind.

"Exactly why I've never gotten very far," said Doug.

Lucien held up the autopsy report. "May I keep this?"

Doug nodded. "Be my guest. I've read it so many times I can probably recite it by heart."

"Thank you, Doug. I'm not sure what help it will be, but I don't plan to let the matter rest."

"Be careful, Lucien. Remember you're dealing with someone who's already killed once," Doug warned.

"I'll keep you informed of what I find," Lucien promised. He added the report to the other papers in the file as he wondered where to go from there.


	22. Chapter 22

Ever since the sunroom flowers had begun to bloom, Jean had bestowed much of its bounty on the Sacred Heart parish, sharing the beauty of her flowers with her fellow churchgoers. On this morning she was arranging daisies and carnations on the side altars. She had just stepped into the center aisle to be sure that the two sides were symmetrical when Father Morton entered the church. He joined her in admiring her handiwork.

"Very nice," he complimented the arrangements.

"Thank you, Father, and good morning."

"Good morning, Mrs. Beazley. Just so you know, severall of the ladies of the parish have mentioned how much prettier the flowers have been lately. Your efforts are appreciated. Thank you."

"It's my pleasure, Father," said Jean, ducking her head in modesty.

"We're very glad you've chosen to rejoin Sacred Heart since you've come back to Ballarat."

"I wouldn't feel quite at home in any other church. You baptized both of my boys. You married Christopher and me."

"Ah, yes, marriage. And you'll be marrying again here soon enough, won't you?" said the priest.

"That's right," Jean said slowly, wondering where this was going. Was Father questioning her right to remarry? He'd seen the copy of Christopher's death certificate.

"Young Doctor Blake," said Father Morton, nodding. "Of course I baptized him as well, many years ago. But I also remember he left the parish a long time ago."

"Lucien hasn't lived in Ballarat since he was in his teens," Jean reminded the priest. "He did rejoin Sacred Heart shortly after he returned."

"He did, indeed, but judging by some of the questions he asks in our pre-marriage classes, I can't help but wonder how committed he is to his faith."

Jean's mind raced. Should she mention Lucien's doubts about the Church? Surely she couldn't lie to Father Morton. She decided to be cautious. "Lucien is a very well educated man. His medical training encourages him to ask questions. It makes him a better doctor."

"Perhaps, but does it make him a good man?"

"Father, if you'll excuse the phrase, Lucien has been to hell and back. He's seen and experienced unspeakable horrors. In spite of that, he's unfailingly kind to everyone, and he does his best to help everyone he meets. I think that speaks a great deal to what kind of man he is."

"And if you should have children with him, are you quite sure he will allow them to be raised in the Catholic faith given his questioning of his own faith?"

"I can assure you, Father, he will do anything in his power to make me happy, so if I tell him I want our children to be raised as Catholics, I have no doubt whatsoever that he would agree to it."

"Well, then, Mrs. Beazley, you've assuaged my doubts," said Father Morton. "And thank you again for seeing to the flowers. Good day to you."

"Good day, Father," said Jean.

She watched him walk out, wondering if she should suggest to Lucien that he ease off on the questions in their classes. But she enjoyed his questions, and the way they made everyone have to think and respond to basic questions of faith. She thought it was healthy for both Lucien and Father Morton. No, she wouldn't try to put a stop to it. If it made Father Morton uncomfortable, well then, maybe he ought to spend more time questioning his own beliefs. And if Lucien found the answers he was seeking, maybe he'd find his faith again. And if not, at least she'd know that his ultimate decision was made from careful thinking and not out of defiance or rebellion against his father's beliefs.

* * *

Lucien and Alice Harvey faced each other in the morgue over the body of Gordon Howard. Mister Howard had been found dead in his garage at the age of 51. His medical history showed the man suffered from extreme hypertension and had been known to forget to take his medication from time to time. Lucien and Alice were almost certain he had died of a massive stroke, but given his age and the suddenness of his demise, they were required to examine the body for any signs of foul play.

"This seems a waste of time," said Doctor Harvey as she checked his right hand and arm.

"Yes, it does," Lucien agreed, as he performed a similar examination of the left side. "But Doug Ashby is a stickler for the letter of the law, so we do it."

"What's he like, Chief Superintendent Ashby?"

"He's actually an old friend of my parents," Lucien told her.

She looked at him sharply, questioning.

"Yes, that's probably part of the reason I got this position," Lucien admitted. "That and the fact that none of the other doctors in town seemed much interested in it."

"Well, then, I suppose it's fair," said Doctor Harvey.

"Doug seems to be a good man, although sometimes rather tough on his subordinates."

"Perhaps he thinks he can't allow any mistakes when lives may hang in the balance."

"You may be right," said Lucien. He had moved down to the man's abdomen, but found no signs of bruising or other damage. "How about you, Doctor Harvey? How are you settling into Ballarat?"

"Well enough. Of course, people seem a bit distant much of the time. I think they find it strange that I'm a female pathologist. It was much the same in Melbourne, actually," she said.

Lucien wondered if people found her strange for being a pathologist or if she became a pathologist because people had always found her strange. Dead bodies never asked the sort of uncomfortable questions that live people were prone to.

"Have you made many friends here?" Lucien asked. "I've always thought Ballarat to be somewhat provincial when dealing with newcomers. I was born here, but I'm still treated as a blow in by some."

"I'll admit I'm finding it a bit difficult to make friends," Doctor Harvey told him. "I've been invited to some hospital functions, but not much else."

"We'll have to do something about that. How about coming to dinner at my home on Friday?" He saw her eyes widen and hastened to reassure her. "My fiancée, Jean Beazley, is a wonderful cook, and she knows practically everyone in Ballarat. You could come early and join us and the children for a family dinner, or we could make it a dinner party later in the evening, adults only. Your choice."

"Oh." Doctor Harvey had to think about it. Lucien expected she might not have a lot of experience with young children. "Exactly how many children are there?"

"Three, I'm afraid. Jean's two sons and my daughter. You met Jean's son Christopher in Melbourne, if you'll recall. They're all reasonably well-behaved, and all of school age, so no infants or toddlers. And my father will also be there, as it's his house, but I can't vouch for how well-behaved he'll be."

Doctor Harvey found that amusing. "I suppose I'll take the chance. I think I'd enjoy a family dinner, Doctor Blake. Thank you for inviting me."

"My pleasure. And it's Lucien."

"Thank you, Lucien. I'm Alice. You said your father will be there. Your mother?"

"My dear mother died when I was a boy."

"I am sorry. My apologies for bringing it up."

"Quite all right. How were you to know?" asked Lucien. "Actually she's been the topic of conversation quite a bit lately. There seems to be some question of how she died."

"Really?"

"Yes. Recently I came across some of her medical records that seem to suggest that the official story I was given at the time may not be what actually happened. And Doug Ashby also has some suspicions of his own."

"What does the Chief Superintendent think happened to her?" Alice inquired.

"He thinks she was poisoned."

"You can't do an exhumation to check? Even after all this time surely there would be some trace, depending on what poison was used."

"My father would never allow it," said Lucien. "And even if he agreed, we'd need to provide some proof of foul play before the court would grant the exhumation order."

"So you need the exhumation to get proof, but you need proof to get the exhumation order?"

Lucien held up his hands in surrender. "I know, I know. It means I'll have to start somewhere else."

"I could test the soil around her remains," Alice offered. "If it was indeed poison some of it may have leeched into the ground."

"Would you mind terribly?"

"Not at all," said Alice. "If you give me the location, I'll get started on it."

"Just one thing," said Lucien. "My father doesn't know I'm investigating this. If anything comes of it, I'll let him know, but until then..."

"I won't mention it," Alice promised. "I'll deliver the results directly to you."

"Thank you, Alice. I appreciate this. I really do."

* * *

That evening over dinner Lucien announced that they would be having a dinner guest. "Jean, I hope you don't mind that I've invited a colleague, Doctor Alice Harvey, to join us for dinner on Friday."

"Do I need to prepare something fancy?" Jean asked. It was a woman doctor, after all. She must be quite impressive.

"No, no, she said she preferred just a family dinner as opposed to a dinner party," said Lucien.

Christopher spoke up. "Is that the lady we met at the Medical Board in Melbourne?"

"That's right, Chris, you've met her before."

"Mum, she's nice," Christopher remembered.

"She's a bit ... awkward, socially, so she's having a difficult time making friends since she moved to Ballarat," Lucien explained.

That upset Jean. "We can't have that," she said firmly. "Maybe we should invite someone else, too. What about Matthew Lawson?"

"Next time," said Lucien. "We don't want to overwhelm her with new people to meet. We should let her get used to all of us first, don't you think?"

"Of course you're right. Next time. Maybe we can have a real dinner party. Invite the Clasby ladies, Doctor?" she suggested, knowing they were particular friends of his.

"That would be fine," said Thomas. "We haven't had a real dinner party in this house for more years than I care to count. My previous housekeeper, Mrs. Trent, wasn't up to having more than one or two visitors at a time, but if you can handle it, I say the more the merrier."

"Can we go to the dinner party?" Jack asked.

"I'm afraid dinner parties are for adults," said Jean. "I'll make something special for you three to eat earlier, then you can stay up long enough to greet the guests before it's off to bed."

"It wouldn't be much fun for you anyway," said Lucien. "Likely you'd be bored with all the talking."

"Will there be games?" Li wondered, having attended a classmate's birthday party the prior week.

"It won't be anything like Edna's party," Jean promised her.

"I suppose it's all right then if we don't go," said Jack. "It doesn't sound like very much fun anyway."

Jean and Lucien exchanged a smile.

"Now, then, for the dinner this Friday, do you know what Doctor Harvey might like to eat?" asked Jean.

"Well, she mentioned that she can't really cook, so I suspect she'd enjoy almost anything you might make," said Lucien.

"That doesn't help," said Jean. "Can you at least ask her if there's anything she doesn't eat? I lot of people don't care for seafood, or can't eat red meat."

"I don't care for peas," Jack offered, glaring at the offensive vegetable currently on his plate.

"I can eat them for you," said Li. "I like peas."

Jean intervened. "We'll all eat our own veg, thank you, but I'll be sure that peas aren't on the menu for Friday night, all right?"

"All right," Jack sighed, and picked up his fork.

Privately Lucien thought it a good sign that these children who had spent years in near-starvation conditions could now feel confident enough in their diet to be picky about what they ate. It seemed they were a step closer to a normal childhood.


	23. Chapter 23

On Friday evening, Lucien was playing the piano in accompaniment with Christopher's flute as the boy practiced for his first recital. With Li helping, Jean was putting the last minute touches on the meal for their guest. Now and then she would stop to listen to the music. Other parents had warned her to expect the worst when her child took up a new instrument, but Jean had experienced none of that. Christopher had been playing recognizable melodies from the start. She couldn't help but wonder if her untrained ear was too inept to recognize his mistakes, or if, as Lucien insisted, Christopher simply had a gift for music. She figured that the reception he received at the recital might prove which one was in fact true.

She had just taken the roast from the oven when she heard the knock at the front door. Their guest had arrived. "I'll get it," she called out, knowing Doctor Blake was in his study working on patient records, and not wanting to interrupt the music practice.

Li followed her into the foyer, curious to meet the female doctor, as curious as Jean was herself. She shared a smile with the little girl before opening the door.

"Hello, Doctor Harvey," she greeted their visitor. "I'm Jean Beazley. And this is Lucien's daughter, Li Blake." Jean was surprised to see that the doctor was a slight woman, almost delicate in build. Although she was an inch or two taller than Jean, slenderness made her seem smaller. Jean had expected someone quite matronly and large-boned. She thought it all the more impressive that Alice Harvey, slight as she was, navigated successfully in the male-dominated field of medicine.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Beazley. Lucien talks about you. All the time, actually. I hope I'm not causing you a great deal of extra work."

"Not at all, Doctor. Please, call me Jean."

"Thank you, Jean. I'm Alice."

"Please come in, Alice," she welcomed the visitor, leading her into the parlour, with Li following closely behind. "Lucien should be with us shortly. He's helping my son Christopher prepare for an upcoming recital." She nodded her head in the direction from which the music was coming.

She directed Alice to sit and offered her a drink. As she poured it she saw Li perch on the ottoman directly in front of their visitor. "You're really a doctor?" the little girl asked, almost in awe.

"That's right, a pathologist. I work with your father quite frequently," Alice told her.

"I think I'd like to be a doctor some day, like my father and my grandfather," Li told her solemnly. "My teacher says I can't be a doctor because I'm a girl."

Jean made a mental note that she and Lucien should have a word with Li's teacher. She knew Lucien would not be pleased that anyone was trying to limit Li's possibilities in life.

Alice responded to Li just as solemnly. "My teachers used to tell me the same thing."

"What did you do?" Li inquired.

"I didn't listen to them when I knew they were speaking nonsense. Maybe you shouldn't either, if it's what you really want."

Jean immediately realized Alice Harvey was someone she wanted to know much better. She was just handing the doctor her drink when Lucien and Christopher appeared, followed shortly by Jack and then Thomas.

Lucien made the introductions all around, while Li continued to watch Alice closely. At first Lucien thought it might make Alice nervous, but then he realized that Alice often studied people in much the same way. In fact, at the moment she seemed to be making an effort to make eye contact with Li regularly.

"Do you really cut up dead people?" Jack asked Alice eagerly.

Jean was about to scold him, but Alice didn't seem at all daunted by the question.

"I do when it's necessary," she said. "I try to determine how they died. Usually that involves x-rays and blood tests and a physical examination of the body, but sometimes it requires an autopsy, which means cutting into the body to check the internal organs."

"Wow!" Jack exclaimed. "Li, is that what you want to do?"

"If it would help other people not to die, I think it would be a good thing to do," said Li, glancing from Alice to Lucien.

"That's exactly why we do it," Lucien assured her. "To save lives."

"It's the only legitimate reason to become a doctor," Thomas intoned. "Saving lives."

Li nodded in agreement.

Jean spoke up. "If this conversation hasn't caused anyone to lose their appetite, I could use some help to set the table." Recognising that Li was busy engaging with their guest, Jean didn't want to pull her away. "Jack, Christopher?"

The boys followed her into the kitchen.

Alice seemed to enjoy the meal surrounded by the entire Beazley-Blake family. Jean could tell that she appeared to be a rather private person, but the children drew her out of her shell, and Lucien had turned up his charm to make her feel at ease. Before long she was volunteering information about her exploits in medical school as the only woman in most of her classes. She made light of it, but Jean could tell there was considerable pain behind some of the incidents. From the look in Lucien's eyes, he was sensing the same thing.

It was no wonder Alice wasn't married, Jean thought. After the abuse she'd received from the young men in her classes, why would she want to risk subjecting herself to more of the same? She got on well with Lucien, but he seemed to treat her with a brotherly kind of fondness. What she needed was to meet another man who would treat her with a similar level of respect while still appreciating her as a woman. No small order.

Jean had just begun to serve the plum tart to finish off the meal when the telephone rang.

"I'll get that," Lucien volunteered, excusing himself from the table.

When he returned, he glanced quickly at his father before addressing Alice. "I'm afraid we have a case," he said. "That was Chief Superintendent Ashby. A body has been found, and he says it may be a case of poisoning. Alice, would you like me to drop you at the hospital on my way?"

Jean could tell there was something about the case he preferred his father not know right away. Something decidedly personal.

"I drove myself here, but thank you, Lucien," said Alice, standing up from the table.

"Jean, thank you for a lovely dinner," Lucien told her, kissing her on the cheek. "Please don't wait up. This could take a while. Good night, everyone."

Alice echoed his thank you and preceded him out the door. Wondering what the case entailed, Jean decided she'd wait up for Lucien as long as she could.

* * *

Lucien drove as quickly as he possible, with his mind racing even more quickly. He had been shocked when Doug told him the deceased was Neville Franklin. The same Neville Franklin that Doug had recently accused of being complicit in the death of Lucien's mother. Lucien couldn't help but wonder if there was a connection between Doug's accusations and the man's sudden death.

He arrived at the white elephant of a building that was the Masonic Lodge. Lucien considered the whole "brotherhood" thing more than just a bit ridiculous, even if some of the members were people he respected. People like his father, Doug and Cec Drury. He kept his feelings in the matter to himself as he greeted Constable Hobart at the front door and followed the corridor down which the youngest member of Ballarat's finest had pointed.

At the end of the corridor he heard voices and came upon the death scene. Mister Franklin appeared to have died in convulsions. Frothy saliva dripped in a trail down the side of his face, and his limbs were contorted in a stiff arrangement.

Doug and Matthew Lawson stood over the body, looking down upon it with some bemusement.

Lucien knelt to examination Mister Franklin's body. "What have we got?" he asked, not yet meeting Doug's eye.

"You tell me," said Doug. "He was found just as you see him there, by Alistair Llewellyn, the lodge's Master-at-Arms."

"When was he last seen alive?" asked Lucien, as he looked into the dead man's eyes before gently closing them with his fingertips.

Matthew consulted his notebook. "About an hour ago, by several people in the main club room."

"I want all of them brought in for questioning," Doug told Matthew. "And Llewellyn as well. Now, Sergeant," he said more harshly. "I don't want them leaving here. Or comparing notes."

"Sir," said Matthew, taking his leave.

When he was gone, Lucien looked up at Doug. "What have you got against Lawson? You seem to be much harder on him than anyone else, and he's your most reliable man on the force."

Doug looked like he was about to put Lucien in his place for questioning what was none of his business, but then he softened. "That's why I'm harder on him than on the others," he admitted. "Lawson has the potential to be an excellent cop. One of the best I've ever known. I expect him to replace me as Chief Superintendent one day, but I need to know he can be tough when he has to be."

"I see," said Lucien.

"And I'd appreciate if you kept that to yourself. He's better off not knowing just yet."

"Understood," said Lucien. He stood up so that he could look Doug squarely in the eye. "I'm quite sure Mister Franklin has been poisoned, just as you thought." He indicated the decanter of red wine that had been upset on the carpet a few feet from the body. "I expect that's how the poison was introduced. I'll take a sample of it with the body to the morgue."

He studied Doug's reaction. The policeman nodded, as though he expected to hear what Lucien had told him, but an officer with Doug's years on the job would surely have concluded that anyway.

"Report on my desk as soon as possible," Doug instructed.

"Yes, of course," said Lucien. "Do you have any suspects in mind?"

"I'll wait until we've conducted the interviews before I make any accusations," Doug said, somewhat evasively, Lucien thought.

* * *

He followed the ambulance to the hospital where Alice was waiting for him in the morgue.

"My word!" said Alice when she saw the state of the body.

"Indeed," Lucien agreed. "Let's draw bloods for toxicology before we do anything else."

"Quite clearly a case of poisoning. Any thoughts as to which one?"

"I'd guess strychnine, from the look of it," said Lucien.

"Yes, you may be right. You've seen it before?"

"Only illustrations in books." He produced the sample he'd procured of the spilled wine. "This may well be how it was introduced into his system."

"Well, then, we have a head start," said Alice. "Let's have a look, shall we?"

Over the next ninety minutes they examined the body, inside and out. The instrument of death was, in fact, strychnine, administered in the wine. The odd thing was that they also found half of an exotic coin lodged in the man's throat.

"It looks to be a Masonic coin," said Lucien, as he pointed out the symbols that could be seen on the fragment of metal. "The square and compass, with the 'G' for geometry in the center, typical symbolism of the Freemasons."

"I see," said Alice, peering closely at it. "Someone seems to have wanted this murder to be connected with the Masons."

"Or to look that way, at least," said Lucien.

"What are you thinking?" Alice asked.

"Too early to be sure just yet," said Lucien. He held up the coin fragment. "Do you mind if I hold onto this for now?"

"I don't mind, but will Chief Superintendent Ashby mind?"

"I'm going over to the station now. I want to let him know about our findings, and that the full report will be ready for him in the morning. Why don't you go on home, Alice? There isn't much more we can learn here."

"I'll just finish cleaning up here before I head out. And Lucien, thank you for inviting me to dinner. You have a very nice family."

"Thank you, I think so. And you seem to have made yourself a fan in my daughter."

Alice smiled, somewhat shy but still proud to be admired.


	24. Chapter 24

With the abrupt departure of Lucien and their dinner guest, Jean urged the children to return to finish the meal. She noticed that Jack had become quiet and even though her plum tart was a particular favourite of his, he only ate it half heartedly. She decided to keep an eye on him for the rest of the evening to see if something was wrong. Perhaps he was coming down with an illness of some sort.

Doctor Blake and Christopher excused themselves from the table, and Li stood up to help Jean with clearing away and washing up, but Jack continued to sit at the table, seemingly lost in thought. Li looked concerned about him as well.

"Sweetheart, do you want more of the tart?" Jean asked him. "There's one piece left."

When he didn't seem to hear her, she went over to place a hand on his forehead, wanting to be sure he didn't have a fever. He wasn't overly warm, so she just kissed him there.

"Is something wrong?" she asked quietly.

He looked up at her and shook his head, but the sadness in his eyes told a different story. Jean decided she would try to talk to him later, when she tucked him into bed.

She began the washing up while Li took the towel to start drying. Without being asked, Jack got a second towel to help her. Li smiled at him. "Thank you, Jack."

He managed a smile for her. "You're welcome," he said, but that was the extent of his conversation.

Usually between dinner and bedtime Lucien would read to the two younger children. They were currently working their way through _David Copperfield _which had both Jack and Li enthralled. Jean had been enjoying it as well, listening to Lucien read as she knitted a jumper for Christopher. She wasn't sure if she should offer to read in Lucien's stead tonight, but she had a feeling neither child was in the mood for it.

She sat on the couch and patted the place beside her, thinking Jack might need a cuddle, but instead he lay on the floor and pushed around the lorry and car that Lucien had made in the prison camp. They had become like a security blanket for the boy, who usually carried them around in his pocket, to be brought out in times of trouble.

Li sat beside Jean, and they exchanged a worried look.

When bedtime rolled around, there was none of the usual protest from Jack. He trudged up the stairs with Li in his wake, as Jean called out, "I'll be up in a few minutes."

She set her knitting aside and went to speak with Christopher, who stood beside the piano where his music stand was set up, still working on the recital pieces. He paused when he saw her. "Mum?"

"You sound lovely," she told him. "I'm looking forward to watching you perform."

"Thanks," he said shyly. "I want it to be perfect."

"I'm sure it will be. Lucien is very impressed with how hard you're working."

"He helps me a lot," said Christopher.

"I'm glad." She paused. "Christopher, do you know if something's wrong with your brother?"

"I haven't spent much time with him because I've been practicing," Chris admitted.

"Yes, I understand. All the practice is paying off. I'm so proud of you."

He smiled at her, accepting her praise for once. But that didn't get her any closer to knowing what the problem was with Jack.

She went upstairs, where she found Li just climbing into bed. Jean helped pull the covers up to her chin and gave her a kiss. And then another one. "From your father," she said. "I'm sure he'll give you one of his own when he gets home. Good night."

"Good night, Mummy," Li replied. She motioned for Jean to come closer. "Do you know why Jack is so sad?" she asked in a whisper.

"I'm going to talk to him now," Jean replied equally softly.

That seemed to satisfy Li.

Jean walked across the hall to Jack's room and found her son in his pyjamas, sitting on the side of his bed and looking forlorn. Jean sat down beside him and put her arms around him. "Tell me what's wrong?" she pleaded.

He leaned into her for a long moment, and just when she thought he wasn't going to answer, he spoke.

"Mum, why doesn't Lucien like me any more?" he asked in a small voice.

She was shocked. She couldn't understand how he could reach such a conclusion, but clearly he believed it and was suffering because of it. She needed to know why.

"I'm very sure that isn't true. What makes you think Lucien doesn't like you any more?"

"He never has time for me now. He helps Christopher with his music, and he helps Li with her homework, but he doesn't even have time to read our story," said Jack.

"Oh, sweetheart," she sighed. "None of that means he doesn't like you. I promise that he loves you. You're his son in every way. He's just busier now since he's working with the police. And Christopher needs help before his recital. When that's over next week, Lucien can spend more time with you."

"Okay," he said, not looking much happier.

Jean thought quickly. "If Lucien had a lot of time, what would be the best thing you could do with him?" she asked.

Jack thought about it before answering. "Remember when Christopher went with Lucien to Melbourne?"

"You want to go to Melbourne?" It wasn't at all the sort of response Jean had expected.

Jack shook his head. "I just want to spend the whole day with Lucien, just him and me. Like Chris did."

"Would you like me to ask him about that?"

"You think he'd want to?" asked Jack.

"I think he would love to spend a day with you," Jean assured him.

That brought a smile to Jack at last.

"I'll talk to him tonight, as soon as he gets home," she promised.

With that, she helped him under the covers, kissed his forehead and wished him a good night. She noted that he had a grin on his face as she turned out the light.

* * *

Lucien left Alice straightening out at the morgue while he proceeded to the police station. It was quite late by this time, but he knew Doug Ashby would not have left before receiving the preliminary report on Neville Franklin's death. Just as he thought, the station was well-lit when he arrived. As he entered the building, Matthew Lawson was at the front desk speaking into the telephone. Lucien waited until he finished.

"He's inside waiting on your report," said Matthew, nodding toward the main room.

"I have the preliminary one here." Lucien held it up. "Matthew, I need to ask you something in confidence."

Matthew lifted an eyebrow. "All right."

Lowering his voice, Lucien asked, "Do you think Doug Ashby is capable of murder?"

"Murder?" The question clearly surprised Matthew, but he considered it seriously. "I suppose most men are, given the right circumstances. He's no different. Why do you ask? Do you think he murdered Franklin?"

"I don't know. Someone did, and he seems to have had motive and opportunity. He was there when it happened."

"What are you going to do about it?" Matthew asked.

"No use beating around the bush," said Lucien. "I'm going to ask him."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? If he did it, you knowing he did it could be dangerous."

"If he did it, I'd rather know that he did than not know whether I can trust him. Thank you, Matthew."

"Be careful, will you?" Matthew said, almost as a sigh.

Lucien went in to find the room nearly deserted. He passed young Hobart escorting an inebriated man to the holding cells, which left him alone with Doug. Lucien strode up to the Chief Superintendent's desk, handed him the report, and was waved into the seat beside beside the desk.

"Strychnine," he announced.

Ashby nodded. "I thought as much. Not suicide, I take it?"

"No, someone forced it on him," said Lucien, holding up the coin fragment wrapped in his handkerchief. "He had this lodged in his throat."

Doug took the handkerchief from him and looked at the coin. "It looks like someone wants to tie his death to the Masons."

Lucien had been watching him closely but could detect nothing to indicate whether Ashby knew more than he was letting on. Deciding it was too late in the evening to play games, he faced the matter head on. "Doug, I need to know if this is somehow related to my mother's death. Did you have anything to do with the murder of Neville Franklin?"

Rather than appearing offended by the question, Ashby seemed to approve of it. "I can see why you would ask, but no, Lucien. I wanted to see Franklin pay for what he did to your mother, but legally. I wanted to see him arrested, tried, found guilty, and hanged. This was too quick. Too good for a man like that."

"His wasn't an easy death by any means."

"Well, there's that that, at least," Doug said bitterly. "Go home, Lucien. It's late, and this will all be here in the morning."

Lucien stood up. "Good night, Doug. You should get some sleep, too."

"As soon as I've read this," he said, tapping his fingers on the report.

* * *

It was well past midnight when Lucien let himself into the house. Jean was waiting up and went to meet him at the door.

"You look tired," she said after he'd kissed her cheek.

"Long evening," he said, hanging his hat on the hook just inside the door.

She took his hand and let him to the sitting room where he poured himself a whiskey. After she'd declined a drink for herself, they settled beside each other on the couch. "Tell me," she urged.

"The victim was a friend of Dad's, Neville Franklin. Did you know him?"

"I knew of him," said Jean. The man had never impressed her, but as he was a friend of Doctor Blake's, she'd always kept her opinion to herself.

"He was killed at the Masonic Lodge," Lucien continued.

"Killed? Was it murder?"

"It certainly looks that way." He lowered his voice. "Doug Ashby is convinced the man had something to do with my mother's death."

Jean was stunned. "Doug thinks your mother was murdered as well?"

"He's certain of it. Poison, he thinks."

"And this man, Mister Franklin, how did he die?" Jean asked.

"Also poison."

"Do you think there's a connection? After all these years?"

"I don't know. Alice is testing the soil around my mother's grave to see if she can find any traces of poison that may have contaminated it."

"I see," said Jean, although she didn't yet, not entirely. "And what kind of poison killed Mister Franklin?"

"Strychnine. It's a particularly unpleasant one actually. Someone wanted him to suffer."

Jean thought over everything that Lucien had told her. "You don't think Doug Ashby had anything to do with this man's death?"

"I considered it, so I asked him."

"Probably not a good idea, asking your boss if he murdered someone," Jean pointed out. "What did he say?"

"He denied it, and actually I believe him," said Lucien.

"That's a relief. It wouldn't do for the Chief Superintendent to go around murdering people."

"No, it would not," Lucien agreed. "In any case, I'll have to break the news about Franklin to Dad in the morning."

Jean squeezed his hand in sympathy. It was never an easy task, relaying news like that.

Lucien took a sip from his drink. "I'm sorry your lovely dinner was interrupted in that manner. Alice was very grateful for the invitation."

"She's welcome any time," said Jean. "I'd like to get to know Alice better."

"I think she'd like that as well."

Jean hesitated for just a moment, recognizing that Lucien had already had a difficult evening, but she knew he'd want to hear about Jack's problem. "Lucien, there's something else."

He turned to her, waiting for her to continue.

"Jack was quite upset tonight."

"About?"

"He asked me why you don't like him any more."

His eyes widened with disbelief and a bit of pain. "Why ever would he think that? You know how much he means to me? How much they both mean to me."

"Yes, of course I do," Jean quickly assured him. "I told Jack that, but he said you don't seem to have time for him lately. I think it has to do with how much time you've spent helping Christopher with his recital practice, and then when you were called away so you couldn't read to him tonight, well..."

"That poor little chap," said Lucien. "I'm so sorry, Jean."

"You don't need to apologize to me," Jean insisted. "It couldn't be helped."

"How do I make it up to him?"

"He mentioned the day you took Christopher with you to Melbourne. Jack would love something similar, a day out, just the two of you."

"I'm sure I can arrange something along those lines," said Lucien. "Let me give it some thought. And I'll most certainly speak with him tomorrow, first thing."

"I knew you would," said Jean, leaning in for a kiss. She couldn't have asked for a better role model for her sons.


	25. Chapter 25

Lucien didn't get much sleep that night, between reviewing what he knew of Neville Franklin's death and berating himself over Jack's feelings of abandonment. He had always sworn he'd be a better father to his children than his own father had been to him, but already he was letting down the poor lad.

When the sun began to rise, he immediately arose and got ready for the day, but rather than going downstairs, he sat down and waited until he could hear Jack up and moving about. He heard Christopher remind his brother twice to get moving or they'd be late for school. Finally Christopher seemed satisfied, as Lucien heard him go downstairs, leaving Jack to finish getting dressed.

Li had gone down earlier, as had Jean, so Lucien knew he could speak with the boy in private. He knocked on Jack's door.

"What? I'm almost dressed," was the annoyed response from Jack, thinking it was his brother yet again.

Lucien cracked open the door and stuck his head in. "It's me," he announced, seeing that Jack was just pulling on his shoes. "May I come in?"

Jack stared at him for a moment, apparently trying to see if he was in trouble.

"I promise not to keep you for long. We wouldn't want to upset Christopher."

"All right," Jack said slowly, still watching him a bit warily.

Lucien didn't want to be looming over the boy as they spoke so he motioned toward the bed. "May I?"

Jack nodded, still not taking his eyes off Lucien, who sat and patted the space beside him until Jack sat as well.

"I owe you an apology," Lucien began. "I've been so busy with my new job and with helping Christopher that I haven't had much time for you. I hope you can forgive me."

Jack stared at him wide-eyed. Obviously this was not what he was expecting when Lucien walked in. "Mum said it was just until Chris's recital."

"That may be true, but it's no excuse for neglecting you. I don't intend to let it happen again, but if it should for whatever reason, I promise you it won't be because I don't like you. Jack, you and Christopher are my sons in every sense of the word. I couldn't be more proud of both of you." He leaned forward to look directly into Jack's eyes. "To tell you the truth, you remind me very much of myself at your age."

"I do?"

"Yes. The way that you decide something is wrong and take action against it without regard for what might happen to you. Like when you stood up for Li against that chap. That's very much what I might have done under the circumstances."

"Really?" asked Jack. The comparison obviously pleased him.

"Really. The problem, I've learned though, is that sometimes other people can also suffer the consequences when I don't think before I react. So I hope you won't repeat the same mistakes that I've made all too often."

"I'll try," Jack said after thinking it over.

"Thank you. Now, I was thinking about something special we might do together, just the two of us, to make it up to you. Something that you might enjoy much more than Christopher or Li would."

Jack's eyes lit up that Lucien would take the trouble to put so much thought into this.

"I have an idea, see what you think. How about a football match? Do you know about the Big V?"

Jack nodded eagerly, his mouth dropping open. The Big V was the legendary Victoria state squad, the most formidable team in Australian football.

"Well, it seems they're playing their biggest rivals, South Australia, in a couple of weeks, and I thought you and I could go to Melbourne to watch the match. What do you say?"

"Really, Lucien? We could go see the Big V play?"

"I take it that means you'd like to go?"

Jack nodded so hard Lucien was half-afraid he might hurt himself before throwing his arms around Lucien. "Yes, please. That's the best thing _ever_," he insisted.

"Then it's settled," said Lucien. "I'll arrange to get two tickets and we'll go down on the train."

"Thank you, Lucien," said Jack, remembering his manners.

"You're entirely welcome. Now you'd better get downstairs before your brother comes up here looking for you," said Lucien with a smile.

Jack gave him another hug before he ran down the stairs, his eyes alight with excitement.

"At least that's went well, anyway," said Lucien. He feared the conversation with his father would be much more difficult.

* * *

Jean was setting the toast on the table when Jack practically bounced into the kitchen. He looked like an entirely different child. Lucien must have spoken with him.

"Good morning," she said to him. "You're looking much happier."

"I'm very happy," Jack announced. He walked over to hug her. "Good morning, Mum."

She hugged him back. "I'm glad. Now sit down, please."

A few minutes later Lucien entered, also looking better than the night before. She smiled a greeting at him. When he came over to kiss her cheek she whispered, "Thank you, Lucien" and nodded toward Jack.

"My absolute pleasure," he replied softly. "I'm only sorry I left it for so long."

"Nonsense," she told him firmly. He really did need to stop assuming blame for all the ills of the world. "Now sit down before your breakfast gets cold."

The elder Doctor Blake often did not make it to breakfast with the rest of them, since the children had to eat early before they left for school. Jean could see that Lucien was rather relieved that he didn't have to break the bad news on an empty stomach. He volunteered to take the children to school, so Jean kept a plate warm for the doctor and went about her morning routine.

On a hunch, she took a look at the newspaper to see if Neville Franklin's death was reported, not wanting him to read about it there, but it seemed to have happened too late to make the morning edition.

She was cleaning up the kitchen (and wondering yet again how so much "stuff" always seemed to make its way into that room) when Doctor Blake shuffled in.

"You look like you need a cup of tea," she told him, pouring it out and placing it before him.

"Thank you," he said. "Everyone is gone already?"

"Lucien took the children to school. He'll be back shortly. He wanted to speak with you."

"Oh?" he said, lifting an eyebrow, but Jean didn't offer any additional information and he didn't ask further.

She set out the plate she'd kept warm for him, and he began to eat, glancing over the newspaper as he did.

When Lucien returned, she could hear how heavy his footsteps sounded as he made his way to the kitchen. As he appeared, she excused herself, saying, "I'll be in the sunroom."

"Would you mind staying, Jean?" Lucien asked.

Jean was surprised, but dutifully sat down as he asked.

"What's going on, Lucien?" Thomas asked.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news, Dad. Neville Franklin was killed last night."

Jean could have sworn the doctor looked relieved at first, and then looked more worried than upset. She shared a glance with Lucien, who seemed puzzled as well by the reaction.

"Was he murdered?" Thomas asked.

"It certainly appears that way," said Lucien. "How did you know?"

He responded with another question. "What was it? Poison?"

Jean couldn't help but wonder if someone had already told him, but he'd been home all evening, and the only call had been the one summoning Lucien to the scene.

"Yes, strychnine," said Lucien.

Thomas nodded. "Yes, of course it would be. Do you have any suspects?"

Still he didn't seem overly concerned at the death of his friend. It was more curiosity at how it happened.

Lucien was just as surprised. "Dad?"

"Could Jock Clement have done it?" Thomas persisted.

"He could have," Lucien confirmed. "Doug and I both have him at the top of the list of suspects. Do you know something about it that we should know?"

Thomas pushed his plate forward and sat back in his chair. "I suppose it's time I told you some things, Lucien, especially now that you're the Police Surgeon. Doug Ashby knows some of it and suspects the rest, but he has no way to prove it."

"Should I leave you men to talk?" asked Jean.

"No, no, you should know this as well," said Thomas. "It affects you now, I'm afraid."

That made Lucien's eyes widen, and he reached for Jean's hand. "What's this all about? Does it have something to do with Mother?"

"It has everything to do with your mother, and especially how she died. Or I should say, how she was murdered."

"You've known all this time she was murdered? And you never told me?" said Lucien.

Thomas ran a hand over his face. "I suppose I should have told you sometime after you came home, but what difference would it have made, honestly? With no proof, what could you have done about it? It would only have put you in danger if you tried to investigate, and maybe Jean and the children as well."

"You'd better tell us exactly what you know," said Lucien, and it wasn't a suggestion, it was a demand.

Jean touched his arm, trying to calm him down, but Lucien seemed so focused on his father that it took him a moment to even notice. Then he covered her hand with his own and lost a bit of his intensity. "Dad?" he said in a much more even tone.

Thomas sighed, the pain clear in his eyes. "I never should have left her there, at that party. If I'd just stayed with her. But Clement wasn't supposed to be there..." He trailed off.

At this rate they'd never get the story out of him, Jean feared. She thought it might help if she tried guiding him through it. "The night Geneviève died the two of you went to a party, is that right?"

Thomas nodded. "It was at a place called the Palace, on Sturt Street. It's not there any more, torn down many years ago. But you're not interested in any of that. It was like any other party, and we went to a lot of them back in those days. I knew Geneviève missed Paris, so the least I could do was make certain we had an active social life."

"You mentioned Jock Clement wasn't supposed to be there," Jean prompted once again.

"Jock Clement was enamoured with Geneviève, so much so that his attentions made her uncomfortable. We tried to avoid gatherings if we knew he'd be there."

"But this night he showed up unexpectedly?"

"It was an engagement party for a couple of people neither of you would know. They left Ballarat long ago. Neville Franklin was the host, and he'd assured me Jock was not invited. So we went. Geneviève was having a lovely time, but I had a patient appointment early the next morning, so we agreed that she would stay there, and Doug Ashby would see that she got home safely. It wasn't the first time we'd had such an arrangement."

This was all outside of Jean's own experience. She would not have felt comfortable staying at a party if Christopher had needed to leave, and she suspected she would feel the same with Lucien, but this had been a different time and an entirely different circle of society than she had inhabited. "Do you know what happened after you left?" she asked Thomas.

"Not precisely. I've heard different versions from Doug and from Neville and from a few others who were there, but Doug and several other people have confirmed that Jock Clement was there, despite Neville's assurances. Apparently he showed up late, after I'd left. Doug said he offered to take Geneviève home at that point. She was ready to leave, but Neville asked for her advice on his gift for the engaged couple, so she went with him into his study to look at it."

He had tears in his eyes, but he forced himself to continue. "When she didn't return in half an hour or so, Doug went looking for her. He found her on the floor of the study. She was already gone." The tears were running down his face now.

When Jean glanced at Lucien, he was also in tears. She tightened her hold on his hand, and he nodded his thanks for her support. She let the two men have their moments to grieve for what had been taken from them.

After Thomas seemed to gain control of himself once more, Lucien prodded him to continue the narrative. "If you and Doug both believed Jock Clement may have been responsible, how on earth did he manage to be the one signing off on her death certificate?"

"Political connections," said Thomas, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "That and intimidation." He took out his handkerchief, wiped the tears from his face and blew his nose. "Harry McDonald was the Chief Superintendent back then, and he was a great supporter of Jock's."

"You said intimidation. On the part of Mister McDonald?" Jean asked.

Thomas shook his head. "No, it was all Jock."

"What kind of intimidation?" Lucien wanted to know.

"Threats, mostly. Over the next few days. After Doug and I started to ask questions. When Jock realized we weren't convinced the official narrative was true. I made the mistake of confronting Neville, demanding to know what really happened that night. It was only later, too late, that I realized he had been an accomplice all along."

"Do you know what actually happened?" asked Jean.

"I'm afraid that I don't. Only that she went into the study with Neville, and she never came out alive. The coroner's report said otherwise, of course, but Doug was certain she was poisoned, probably something slipped into her Bordeaux, but Jock Clement must have pulled a lot of strings to cover it up." He sighed heavily and looked down at his hands before looking up at Lucien. "I made a promise to your mother on the day of her funeral that I would find the one responsible and see that justice was done. I wouldn't move on with my life without her. That's why I locked up her studio. I couldn't bear the reminder of how I failed her."

"Is that also why you sent me away? I was a reminder of her?" Lucien asked, but his tone was more sorrowful than bitter.

"No!" Thomas said sharply. "It wasn't that at all! I needed to keep you safe! It was the only thing I could still do for her."

"Safe from what?" Jean asked gently.

"From them. Clement and Franklin," he said, as if it were evident, but then he backed up, as though he realized he'd left something out. "The intimidation I spoke of: I started receiving threats. If I didn't leave it alone, stop asking questions, you'd be next, son. I couldn't let that happen. I thought you'd be safe in Melbourne. They couldn't poison you if you were eating the same meals as a hundred other boys." Again he looked down at his hands. "But I lost you just the same, didn't I?"

"You sent me away to save me from those men?" Lucien was astounded.

Jean squeezed his hand yet again, to offer her support, but she could see just how angry he was, and with good reason. That one decision, made by Thomas under incredible duress, had profoundly changed the course of Lucien's life.

Thomas also saw the anger. "Clement is still dangerous, Lucien. He may not have the Chief Superintendent in his pocket now, but he isn't above killing again. All these years Doug and I have stayed in touch with him, and Franklin, hoping they'd slip up and give us a way to prove the truth, but it never happened. And if he's killed Neville now, he'll be even more of a threat. Don't take him on alone. Work with Doug, if you must go after him."

"The Doctor is right," said Jean, fearful Lucien might do something impulsive and dangerous. "Please, be careful, for the children and for me."

"And for your mother," added Thomas. "The last thing she would want is for something to happen to you because of her."

Lucien's whole body was taut with outrage. He glanced from Jean to Thomas and then back again. Finally his shoulders slumped. "Yes. You're right, of course. I'll work with Doug, but Clement will pay for what he's done to all of us."


	26. Chapter 26

Jean was in the kitchen making breakfast and thinking over everything Doctor Blake had revealed on the previous night. She hoped Lucien would remain true to his word to work with Chief Superintendent Ashby in order to bring Jock Clement to justice rather than trying to do it all himself. She didn't think her fiancé would deliberately break his vow, but she knew him well enough to imagine him coming across new evidence and rushing to act on it without thinking things through.

She enjoyed this early morning quiet most days. It gave her a chance to gather her thoughts and plan the day ahead. On this particular day, though, she heard small footsteps coming down the stairs much earlier than usual. She was just wondering if they belonged to Christopher or Li when Jack appeared, surprisingly her completely.

"Good morning," she greeted him, noting that he was already dressed for school. His uncharacteristically early appearance wasn't due to illness, then. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

He grinned. "Morning, Mum. I woke up early."

"I see. Is anything wrong?"

"Nooo," he said slowly. "I was just wondering something, and I wanted to ask you."

"What's that?" she asked, lowering the heat on the stove and turning to give him her full attention.

He began with an explanation, in his usual exuberant fashion. "Lucien's taking me to Melbourne to see the Big V, did he tell you? That's the best thing I ever wanted to do! It's like he knows me better than anyone, except maybe you, Mum. That's why I was wondering, do you think I could start calling Lucien 'Dad'? Would he mind?"

Jean pulled out a chair and sat down, then held out an arm to motion Jack closer. "I'm certain he wouldn't mind at all, he'd feel honoured. What's brought this on?"

"I've been thinking. I can hardly remember my real father now. And Lucien does all the things a father is supposed to do, right?"

"Yes, he does," Jean admitted, not quite sure how she felt about all of this. But, of course, Jack had been very young when Christopher was killed, and so much of the boy's life had been spent in the camp where Lucien had been the only adult male he knew, aside from the guards, and the less said about them the better. Still she was reluctant to see Christopher's influence erased from his life.

On the other hand, Lucien had taken the boys into his heart and under his wing, and Jack was right that he'd done all the things a father was supposed to do. And as Jack got older and approached manhood himself, she hoped Lucien was the one he used as a role model. If calling him 'Dad' would encourage that, she felt certain her Christopher would understand. She knew he'd always want what was best for their boys.

"All right," she told Jack. "You speak with Lucien about it in private, and you can tell him it has my blessing."

He gave her a big smile. "Thanks, Mum." And a hug. "Shall I set the table?"

"That would be a big help," she told him. She thought she would speak to Lucien about it herself, wondering if he would mind if she made it a point to speak more about Christopher Sr. to the boys, to help keep his memory alive.

* * *

Lucien never made it to the breakfast table. A call came from the police station before he even sat down: a body had been discovered behind the Bended Elbow pub. He only had time to wish the children good morning and give Jean a hasty kiss on the cheek before he was heading for the door.

"Doctor," Jean called, causing him to pause.

She tossed him an apple so at least he'd have something in his stomach.

When he got his first look at the body, he wasn't sure having anything in his stomach was such a good idea after all. The man's body was hanging by a rope around his neck, the other end tied to a rung of an upper floor balcony. It looked as though it had been there for several hours at least.

Matthew Lawson was standing guard as Lucien circled the body first to study it before signaling that it should be taken down.

"Hardly more than a boy. Any idea who he is?" he asked as he examined the knot, then loosened it.

"Name is Andrew Harrison," Matthew told him. "Aged twenty-two. He's a farmer and a regular patron of this pub."

"Married? Children?" asked Lucien.

"Yes, married, but no children."

"You knew him?"

Matthew shook his head. "The publican did. He's the boy's uncle so he made the identification of the body. Said he hasn't been the same since he got back from the war."

"No, I suppose not," said Lucien, recognizing just how much he himself had been changed by it. "Especially for someone so young."

"Didn't seem all that surprised that the boy might take his own life," Matthew observed.

"I'm afraid we may see this happening all too frequently over the next few years," Lucien said sadly. "Too many people saw and experienced too much horror."

"So you don't see anything here to indicate it was anything other than suicide? The boss will ask."

"Doctor Harvey and I will take a closer look, but I'm fairly confident young Mister Harrison did this to himself." Lucien's heart was heavy as he stood and motioned for the ambos to take the body to the morgue.

* * *

Alice Harvey was just entering the morgue when Lucien and the body arrived. She took a close look at the marks around Harrison's neck, then glanced up at her colleague. "Was it self-inflicted?" she asked.

"Unfortunately it seems so," Lucien said soberly.

"Very sad, especially for such a young man," said Alice. "Do we have any idea why he'd do that?"

"I'm afraid it may have been related to his war experiences."

"I've been reading about that in the journals. It's not all that uncommon, they say. They're calling it Acute Stress Disorder now, rather than the term 'shell-shock' that was used in the Great War."

"Yes, or 'battle fatigue'," said Lucien. "Although for many men it seems to worsen when they try to return to ordinary life after seeing combat. It can seem pointless to them."

They examined the body as they spoke but found nothing inconsistent with the notion that it was self-inflicted asphyxiation by hanging.

"Let's run a basic blood toxicology, and if it's clean we can close this," said Lucien.

"Concur," said Alice. "And seeing as we're alone here I should tell you I have the results of the tests on the soil samples from your mother's grave."

"And?"

"It confirms your suspicions, I'm afraid." Alice went over to pull a file from her bag. "Strong traces of strychnine, strong enough to point to it as the cause of death."

She handed him the folder, and he glanced over its contents. "May I keep this? I'd like to discuss it with the Chief Superintendent."

"Of course," she said, "but you realize the testing was unauthorized."

"I won't bring your name into it," he promised. "No need to get you involved."

* * *

Doug Ashby looked up as Lucien approached his desk. "Well?"

"Waiting for toxicology tests before I sign off on it, but it's quite clearly a suicide."

"Another one," said Doug. "A shame really. Go with Lawson on the death knock to the widow, would you? The uncle might have already told her, but we need to make it official."

Lucien nodded, not looking forward to it but thinking he might be able to provide some small comfort to the young woman.

"I have something else you should see," he told the Chief Superintendent as he handed him the folder from Alice.

Doug took the file and began to study it carefully as Lucien settled into the seat beside the desk. When he'd finished reading he asked, "Do I want to know how you got this?"

"Best not," said Lucien. "You should also know I had a long talk with my father last night about this very subject."

Doug lowered his voice so as to not be overheard. "He told you about the threats?"

"Yes, he told me everything. Now what do we do about it?"

"i have a few thoughts, but not here," said Doug. "Clement has eyes and ears all over this town."

"Why don't you bring Violet over to dinner tomorrow evening?" Lucien suggested. "That will look harmless enough."

"All right, thank you, I'll do that. Now Lawson is waiting on you."

* * *

Jean was just moving the filled serving dishes onto the table for dinner when Lucien walked in the door, looking a bit worse for wear. He kissed her cheek before sinking into a chair.

"Tough day?" she asked him.

"Difficult day," he confirmed. "And before I forget, I invited Doug Ashby and Violet to dinner tomorrow. I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine. Is there a particular reason?"

Lucien told her about Alice's findings and Doug's suspicion that Jock Clement might have informants keeping him apprised of any investigation.

"I can be sure the children are occupied so you men can talk," Jean told him.

"I'd like your insight as well," said Lucien. "You always have something valuable to contribute."

Jean couldn't help feeling pleased that he valued her input. It was flattering to be appreciated for something other than her housekeeping and gardening skills.

"Oh, what was the call out this morning all about?" she asked him.

"Oh, Jean," he sighed. "Such a tragedy. A young man, Andrew Harrison, hanged himself."

Jean gasped. "I knew him years ago when he was just a boy. His older brother was a schoolmate of my Christopher's."

"I am so very sorry," said Lucien, taking her hand in his.

"Why would he do such a thing?" Jean asked, shaking her head in dismay.

"The war," Lucien said simply.

"He was so young! It's no wonder he couldn't deal with it," said Jean with tears in her eyes. The last time she'd seen him, Andrew hadn't been much older than Christopher Jr. was now. She prayed the inevitable next war was far off in the future so her boys wouldn't be involved. They'd already seen enough of war. That reminded her of her talk with Jack that morning.

"Lucien, I know you're tired, but after dinner could you make some time for Jack? He has something he wants to talk to you about. I promise, it's not bad news. You've had quite enough of that today."

"It would be my pleasure to talk with Jack, my dear," said Lucien.

* * *

Dinner was a somewhat sober affair, with Lucien's somber mood affecting the others. He made an attempt to overcome it, telling Li that Violet and her father would be joining them the following night. Li thanked him and said she looked forward to it, but then returned her attention to her plate.

Jean smiled at him for the attempt, which instantly made him feel better. He glanced over at Jack, wondering what he wanted to talk about. Was it something about their trip to Melbourne? Jean had said it was nothing bad, though, so he'd hold onto that thought.

Jack glanced his way a few times with a sort of half-grin, then quickly looked away as though he was enjoying some secret of his own.

Lucien was relieved when dinner was over. He badly wanted a drink of whiskey, something to dull the image of young Emily Harrison weeping for the loss of her husband. The whiskey could wait, though, until after his talk with Jack.

At his nod, Jack followed Lucien into Thomas's study, and they sat down side by side in front of the desk. "Now, then, young man, what can I do for you?"

Again Jack gave that little grin. "Mum said I should tell you she said it was all right," he began.

"That's good to know," Lucien told him. "What did she say was all right?"

Jack squirmed a little in his chair, then looked Lucien squarely in the eye. "Would it be okay if I call you 'dad' now?"

All the cares of the day fell away for Lucien. His heart seemed to swell in his chest, overflowing with the love he felt for this boy and so very proud he seemed to have filled a void in Jack's life.

But Jack was looking up at him expectantly, waiting for a response. "I'm very honoured that you want this. Are you sure? Your real father was a very good man, I'm told."

"Mum says he was, but I can't really remember him now. I just know that if I could pick someone to be my new dad, you're the one I'd pick," said Jack.

"Then I would be proud to have you call me Dad, just as I know how proud your mother is when Li calls her Mum. Thank you, Jack." He pulled the boy over for a hug. "I was having a very difficult day, but you've just made it one of the best I've ever had."

"Me, too," said Jack, with another grin, which Lucien had to answer with one of his own.


	27. Chapter 27

_Author's Note: Sincerest apologies for taking so long to update this. Real life intervened once again. Rest assured I have every intention of completing both this story and "Blues". In fact, I have the final chapter and the Epilogue laid out for this one, but it's going to take quite a few additional installments to get there._

* * *

When Lucien and Jack emerged from the study, both wore big smiles and Lucien's hand rested on Jack's shoulder. Despite Jean's initial hesitance over the notion of Jack calling Lucien 'Dad', she had to admit that anything that made both of them so happy could hardly be bad.

Judging by the pleased look on Li's face, Jack must have mentioned his intentions to her. Jean thought this might make them both feel more like actual brother and sister, although they'd had such a close camaraderie almost since the moment they met.

Jean was more concerned with how Christopher might feel about the change. Her older son had distinct feelings and memories of his father, the man for whom he'd been named. She also knew how fond of Lucien he was; after all, it was Lucien who'd given him the gift of music and the means of making it. She'd have to keep an eye on him to see how he reacted.

Lucien glanced at Jean, looking for reassurance that she herself was at peace with the idea. She gave him a nod and a smile. Yes, she admitted to herself, it was a positive development for Jack. As headstrong and impulsive as the boy had always been, having Lucien as a father to support him might well be the difference between Jack finding his way successfully in life or going off the rails. Surely Christopher would see that as a good thing.

Seemingly satisfied with her reaction, Lucien went to the bookshelf and took out the volume of _David Copperfield_. "Now, since we missed out last evening, I think it's only right that we do two chapters tonight," he announced to a delighted Li and Jack. "How does that sound?"

Li nodded eagerly, while Jack said, "Great, Dad!"

Both Christopher and Thomas looked up sharply at that. Thomas then nodded approvingly and returned to the newspaper he'd been reading, but Christopher was not quite so sanguine about this new development. He seemed to catch the glance exchanged between Lucien and Jack, and his eyes narrowed somewhat. He didn't exactly look angry, Jean thought, but neither did he appear totally accepting of it. Jean decided she would talk to him later, see if she could get him to tell her how he felt.

Lucien settled on the couch with Jack and Li on either side of him as he read the Dickens novel to them. Jean listened as well, as did Christopher, who seemed to be drawn into the narrative despite whatever else he was feeling.

When he finished the evening's second chapter, Lucien closed up the book, ignoring the pleas for just one more.

Jean rescued him. "No more of that now," she said firmly. "Bedtime for both of you. You can stay up a bit later tomorrow when we have guests."

She herded the two younger ones toward the stairs and was surprised to see Christopher follow along behind.

"I'm kind of tired," he told her.

She exchanged a glance with Lucien, who looked concerned. He pantomimed whether he should accompany them to have a talk with Christopher, but she shook her head. She thought Christopher might be more willing to speak with her about this than with Lucien.

Jack was still thrilled with the idea of Lucien as his new dad, but he was also tired out with the emotions of the day. He was already half-asleep when Jean tucked him in and kissed his forehead, although he managed a sleepy smile for her as he mumbled, "G'night, Mum." And Li was just as easy to get settled for the night. That left Christopher.

Now that he was eleven years old, Jean felt that Christopher deserved the courtesy of not having his mother enter his bedroom at will. She tapped gently on the door until he told her to come in.

"I just wanted to say good night," she told him from the doorway.

"Good night, Mum," he said quietly. More quietly than usual?

"Do you want to talk?" she asked, entering fully into the room.

He shrugged, but in such a way that made it clear he had more to say.

Jean closed the door and moved to sit on the side of his bed. "Did it upset you when Jack called Lucien 'Dad'?" she said gently. "It's all right if it did. I was startled when Jack asked me if he could."

"It was Jack's idea?"

"Yes, of course it was. Lucien would never have presumed to suggest it," she assured him.

"No, I guess he wouldn't," Christopher admitted.

"Jack told me he barely remembers your father. I think he feels left out when the other children talk about the things they do with their fathers. And he pointed out that Lucien does for him what a father would do."

Christopher nodded, almost reluctantly, but he understood. "What would Dad say though? Our real dad, I mean."

"I thought about that when Jack asked me," Jean told him. "You know that he loved you boys and only wanted what was best for both of you, don't you?"

Christopher nodded that he knew that.

"I'm sure he would want all three of us to be happy, don't you think?" Jean continued.

"Yes," said young Christopher.

"As you boys get older it's going to be more and more important that you have someone in your life to show you how to be a good man. I think Lucien can do that, and so if Jack wants to call him 'Dad' I think that isn't a bad thing. With Jack's temper and his headstrong ways he could get into trouble so easily without a father-figure to show him the way."

Christopher thought about that for a while. "I think you're probably right about Jack," he said at last, then he thought some more, while Jean gave him the opportunity to work through it.

"Will Lucien be upset if I don't call him 'Dad'?" he asked at last.

"I'm sure he won't," she told him firmly, "and he won't love you any less. He knows that you remember your father much more than Jack does, and he respects that."

"Okay," said Christopher. "I wouldn't want him to be upset. I love Lucien, Mum. He's the one that gave me my music. But I still love my father, too."

"Of course you do, and Lucien understands that. It's good and right that you do." She couldn't help but think his father probably wouldn't wholly approve of Christopher's devotion to music; he'd consider it a waste of time. Christopher Sr. was a good and loving man, even if sometimes pragmatic to a fault.

Her affirmation of Lucien's respect though seemed to reassure the boy, Jean was relieved to see. She kissed his forehead. "Good night, sweetheart."

But Christopher wasn't quite finished yet. "Mum, do you think sometime we could go out to the farm? I'd like to see it again, and maybe if Jack sees it he'll remember more about our time there when Dad was with us."

Jean had hardly given thought to the farm since she'd accepted the position with Doctor Blake, but as she now owned the property originally left to her and Christopher Sr. by his parents she supposed she ought to take a look at it. They had lived all there for a little over a year until he was posted to Borneo, and she wondered about the current state of the place after the years they'd been away from it. "I think that's probably a good idea," she said. "Maybe this weekend we should have a look at it."

* * *

As usual, Thomas retired to his bedroom when the children went up to bed, while Lucien waited anxiously for Jean to come back downstairs. He cursed his own thoughtlessness for not considering how young Christopher might feel, he'd been so pleased that Jack wanted to call him Dad. Of course it would feel to Christopher like his own father was being erased.

He saw that Jean wore a concerned and thoughtful look when she returned from tucking in the children. Lucien hastened to apologize.

"I'm so sorry, my dear," he told her. "I should never..."

She put a finger to his lips to stop him. "It's all right," she told him. "I probably should have mentioned it to Christopher before Jack spoke to you, but he understands now. He just suggested that we visit the farm sometime soon."

"The farm?" Lucien remembered Jean telling him she'd grown up on a farm, as had Christopher Sr., but he wasn't sure what that had to do with young Christopher.

Jean explained, "Before my Christopher was transferred to Borneo by the Army we lived here in Ballarat on the farm that his parents left us."

"And Chris remembers that?" asked Lucien.

"Quite fondly, apparently. He thinks that if we spend some time there Jack might remember his father."

"And do you agree?" Lucien wondered.

"I don't know. Jack was only three years old when we left for Sandakan, but I probably should take a look at the place anyway, decide what should be done with it, and if it will give Christopher some comfort, well... You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course you should do it," said Lucien. "Maybe I could take Li to the cinema on Saturday afternoon while you and the boys go to the farm?"

Jean nodded. "How about if she invites Violet Ashby to sleep over after dinner tomorrow night, and you take both of them to the pictures? That way you and the Chief Superintendent can talk as late as you need to after dinner tomorrow without him worrying about Violet being out too late."

"Perfect," said Lucien, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "Such a clever woman I'm marrying."

Before she could respond they were interrupted by a knock at the door. "I'll get that," said Lucien, not comfortable with Jean answering the door so late, especially given the threat of Jock Clement hanging over them. He was somewhat surprised (but nonetheless pleased) to see Matthew Lawson standing on the other side.

"Come in," he urged.

Matthew held out a bottle of whiskey. "Sorry to be visiting so late, but I figured you'd be up. Thought it might be a good evening for a drink or two."

"You thought right," said Lucien, taking the bottle from him and showing him inside. "Jean, look who I've found on the doorstep," he called.

"Good evening, Matthew," she said. "Always lovely to see you."

"Jean," he acknowledged her.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" asked Lucien as he poured out drinks for the three of them. He raised his glass toward Matthew then touched the rim of it to Jean's.

Matthew took a sip before responding. "I wanted to talk to you about Neville Franklin's death, but I don't feel comfortable talking at the station. I have a feeling someone there is reporting everything back to Mr. Clement."

"Your chief superintendent has the same feeling," Lucien told him.

Matthew raised an eyebrow at that.

"Yes," Lucien continued. "As a matter of fact, he and his daughter are coming for dinner tomorrow night as a cover to allow us to make plans."

"So you're convinced that Jock Clement killed Franklin?" asked Matthew.

"Not only Neville Franklin, but also my mother," Lucien said, a touch of bitterness in his voice he couldn't conceal.

"I thought your mother died after an operation," said Matthew.

Lucien passed on to Matthew what Doug and Thomas had told him about Geneviève's death. Matthew's anger began to simmer, especially when he heard the real reason Lucien was sent away all those years before. Jean filled in the parts that Lucien skipped over but that Matthew needed to know in order to make sense of it all.

"What can I do to help bring him to justice?" Matthew asked.

Lucien shook his head. "It's probably not a good idea for you to join us tomorrow evening, but I can keep you apprised of any plans we come up with. I should probably let Doug know that you're in on it all."

"He may not like it very much," said Matthew.

"We're going to need help to bring down Jock Clement, from people we trust," said Lucien, pointing his glass at Matthew.

"Just be careful, all of you," Jean pleaded. "He's already killed at least twice. I'm sure he won't hesitate to do it again to cover his tracks."

"We'll be careful," Lucien promised her.

Jean was having none of it. "Matthew, please. Lucien and the Chief Superintendent both have a personal stake in this. I'm depending on you to keep them from doing anything foolish."

Matthew's eyes widened at her tall order. "All I can promise is to do my best."

"Thank you," said Jean. "That will have to be good enough."

Lucien reflected that his fiancée perhaps knew him too well, how he'd been known to let his enthusiasm get the best of him from time to time. But he had no intention of risking his life now, not when he had so much to look forward to.


	28. Chapter 28

The children were already at breakfast when Lucien entered the kitchen. Jean turned to greet him, a smile blooming on her face as it usually did at the sight of him. She could hardly wait until they could spend their nights together and wake up beside each other. Would June and their wedding day ever come, she wondered.

"Good morning. Eggs and toast?" she asked.

"Lovely, thank you," he said returning her smile.

She plated the eggs and handed him the plate and the rack of toast. "What are you up to today?"

"No police cases that need my immediate attention," he said. "I thought we might escort the children to school and then go car shopping. It's past time I stopped borrowing Dad's car and we got one of our own. For that I need your help."

"You want my input? On buying a car?" asked Jean. She actually knew quite a bit about the mechanical side of vehicles, having assisted her father when he worked on the farm equipment and automobile, but in her experience men tended to be overly superior about their expertise on the subject of cars.

"Jean, I value your input on every matter, and since I know very little about cars myself, I can use all the help I can get," he admitted.

"Are we getting a new car?" asked Jack, his eyes lighting up.

"Indeed we are," said Lucien. "Do you have any recommendations?"

Jack nodded. "Can we get one like the one you made for us?"

Jean responded. "A sports car would be fine if we only needed it for two people, but since we need room for at least the five of us, six with Doctor Blake, I think we'll need something a little larger, don't you?"

"I suppose so," said Jack. "Can I ride in it today after school?"

"I don't see why not," said Lucien. "We can pick you up in it when school lets out."

"By the way, Lucien," said Jean as she took her own seat at the table, "you're in the newspaper this morning." She paused to open the paper and point out the article on the front page.

"Yes, well, I thought it important to publicise that we're facing a crisis with veterans and suicide. We need mental health experts who are available when these people approach the breaking point."

"And you think that will happen?" asked Jean

Lucien shook his head. "I'm fairly certain it won't, unfortunately, not until too many more have died."

* * *

At her suggestion, the first stop on their car-shopping expedition was the dealership owned by a former schoolmate of Jean's, Charles Tucker. She introduced Lucien to him, then the two of them split up to look over the vehicles on offer. Jean knew they needed something large enough for at least six people so that the two of them, the three children and Doctor Blake could all fit into it if they wanted to take a road trip together, or even just for going to church.

She admired the flashy roadsters as she passed them, thinking it was a good thing Jack wasn't with her. He would be begging for a ride in one of them. She couldn't help but smile at the thought.

She continued on to where the larger vehicles stood. She and Lucien had discussed how much they'd be willing to pay, so she kept that in mind as she looked them over. She thought perhaps a Hudson or a Studebaker might fit their needs. A dark red Hudson Terraplane caught her eye. She knew it was flashy, entirely inappropriate for a housekeeper to be driving, but soon enough she would be a doctor's wife, and then a shiny red car would hardly be that remarkable.

She opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. The interior was all she could hope for, luxurious, comfortable, and well-appointed. It was certainly large enough for the six of them. What's more, she had no difficulty seeing through the windscreen without needing any kind of boost. She remembered as a teenager having to sit on a thick cushion to be able to drive her father's car.

Satisfied with both the outside and inside, she popped open the bonnet to take a look at the engine. Neither her father nor Christopher had ever bought new vehicles, so she'd never seen a sparkling clean motor before. She was quite impressed at the sight. It seemed very solidly made, and she saw nothing to cause her any concern.

She wondered if Lucien had found anything promising. Jean made her way back toward the office, looking around to see if she could spot him, but didn't see him until she neared the building, where she saw him out front, in conversation with Charles. She wasn't really surprised that he was more interested in a person than any car. She could hardly be annoyed with him for that.

"Lucien?" she greeted him.

"Ah, hello, Jean," he said. "I was just speaking with Charles here about Andrew Harrison. Charles knew him quite well, it seems."

Charles nodded grimly. "We enlisted at the same time. Served together in Italy. We saw some disturbing sights. I'm afraid Harrison never got over it. I've been worried about him ever since we got home. I tried to stay in touch with him when I could, but...". He shrugged sadly.

"I'm so sorry, Charles," Jean told him, touching his arm in sympathy.

He accepted her condolences, then tried to shake it off. "Now, have any luck?" he asked, indicating the cars spread out in front of them.

"As a matter of fact, I have," said Jean. "Lucien, let me show you, see what you think."

* * *

After Lucien handed Charles a check and Charles gave him the keys, Lucien held them out to Jean.

"It's your brand new car, Lucien," she pointed out. "Don't you want to be the first to drive it?"

"It's _our _brand new car," he corrected her. "You did all the work so you should have the honour of driving it first."

She wondered if it were possible to love this man even more. He made her feel seen, important, valued as a person in a way she had never been before. She accepted the keys and slid behind the wheel proudly.

Feeling strangely important, she steered them toward the centre of town, in the direction of the school to pick up the children. Jack would be so excited with the new car, she thought.

As they got closer to town, there seemed to be some kind of commotion, and it was near the fire station. She hoped it wasn't a serious fire.

"What's going on?" she murmured, craning her neck to see. Everyone on the footpath seemed to be looking up toward the station's bell tower, but she couldn't hear the alarm bell itself ringing.

"There," said Lucien, pointing up.

Only then did she notice there was someone standing on the railing of the tower.

"Jean, pull over, please," Lucien requested.

She complied, then turned to face him just as he began to open the car door.

"Lucien?"

"I won't be long," he told her, giving her a quick kiss before he left the car.

Stunned, Jean watched him walk directly to the station and enter the building.

She turned off the engine and focused on the man in the tower, trying to see if she recognized him.

* * *

The fire station was unlocked, but Lucien found no one inside. It took him a moment to spot the entrance to the stairwell leading up to the tower. When he found it, he sprinted up the stairs until he was close to the top. His heart was pounding, and not just from the exertion. He prayed he was not too late.

At the top, he saw that the door was open, and thankfully the man he had seen from below was still perched atop the railing, hanging onto a post with one hand. Lucien composed himself and spoke softly so as not to frighten the man.

"Hello?" he said.

The man spun to face him. "Who in hell are you?" he demanded.

"Doctor Lucien Blake. And your name?"

The man studied him for a moment. "Symons. Marvin Symons. Formerly Corporal Symons."

Lucien nodded. "Where did you serve, Corporal?"

"New Guinea campaign. You?"

"Singapore," Lucien told him, taking a step closer.

"So you know then," said Symons, his shoulders slumping. "How hard it is to come back to..."

"To normal life, yes," said Lucien as he took another step forward. "It doesn't seem quite real any more, does it?"

"That's exactly right," Symons insisted. "No one seems to realise what it's like if they weren't there. I mean how do you deal with it after all of that? Just getting out of bed in the morning is so hard, you know?"

"Yes, I know," said Lucien. "But some days are better than others, right?"

"I suppose," Symons conceded. "None of them are all that good, though."

"Not yet. But what's to say they won't get better, the longer you're away from all of it?"

"How do you deal with it? I mean, you seem all right."

"Today's a good day," said Lucien. "There are days though when I have to remind myself that I have reasons to keep going."

"Like what?"

"Like my little girl."

Symons swallowed hard. "I have a little girl and a boy."

"Is that right? My Li is almost eight years old. How about your two?"

"Martin is six, Jane just turned nine."

"Don't you think they need you? I know my daughter would be devastated if anything happened to me."

"They have their mother. They're better off without me."

Lucien shook his head. "I lost my mother when I was ten. I can assure you, it's not something you get over, losing a parent. Not ever."

Symons stared at him. "I'm afraid I'm going to hurt them, or their mother. I have terrible dreams where I'm not in my right mind."

"Marvin, you need some help. I can find someone to help you. Maybe we could talk about it?"

"I don't know. I ..."

"What? Tell me. Surely you'd like to be around to see your children grow up, wouldn't you?"

Symons slumped, slowly moving down until he was off the railing, leaning against it instead. "You really think someone could help me? Make it better so it doesn't hurt so much?"

"Yes, I think someone could help you, Marvin, if you'll let them. What do you say? For your children and your wife?"

"Martin is an amazing footie player for only being six. I would like to see how good he might turn out to be. And Janie likes to dance. She has a recital coming up..."

"Well, there you go," said Lucien. "You have to be there for her recital, don't you? Come with me, Marvin."

Symons paused a moment longer, then slowly nodded. "Yes, all right. For Martin and Janie."

"For Martin and Janie," Lucien agreed.

* * *

By the time they picked up the children at school and finally made it home, Lucien was exhausted after the afternoon's events. The children were excited, though, both by the new car and by Jean's tale of what had happened at the fire station.

"So you saved the man?" Christopher asked. "Will you be in the newspaper again tomorrow?"

"There was a reporter covering the whole thing," said Jean. "Lucien is a hero."

Lucien felt his hands shaking, now that the incident was long over. "If you'll excuse me," he said, "I'll just go wash up and change my clothes if we're having company for dinner."

The stairs seemed very high as he trudged up them. He wanted nothing more than to collapse on his bed, perhaps with a stiff drink of whiskey first, but with Jean and the children waiting for him, and Doug and his daughter soon to arrive, he needed to be stronger than that.

He reached the top of the stairs and turned toward his bedroom, only to freeze and scan everything around him. He closed his eyes for just a moment recalling exactly how it all had been that morning before he left the house. He was absolutely certain his door had been left wide open while all the others, to Jean's bedroom and those of the children, had been fully closed. Now all the doors were slightly ajar. Someone had been there, presumably in all the bedrooms.

He listened intently, but there was no sound coming from any of them, and his instincts told him that whoever had been there was long gone. Since Jean's room was closest to the stairs, he looked in there first. He couldn't be certain, but it appeared that nothing had been disturbed. He pulled open the top drawer of her vanity and noted that her jewellery was still there. Nothing seemed to have been taken.

Aside from Christopher's flute, which he'd brought to school, the children had little of value. He glanced into each of the three rooms to be certain they were empty, then closed the doors.

More cautiously he pushed the door to his own room fully open. Immediately he saw that two of the bureau drawers were not quite closed, and more importantly the closet door was fully ajar.

With a sinking heart, he looked inside the closet, his eyes going to the top shelf where he stored the locked metal box containing his service revolver. As he feared, the box was gone.


	29. Chapter 29

Jean had just finished tucking the veg into the roasting pan around the lamb when Lucien walked into the kitchen, freshly bathed and shaved. He looked very handsome, but there was a strange, wild look in his eyes.

"Just in time," she said. "Would you mind moving this back into the oven for me?"

"My pleasure," he said, moving to her side. He leaned in close, and she thought he was going to kiss her cheek, but instead he whispered into her ear, "Someone broke into the house while we were out this afternoon." Then he put a finger to his lips to indicate she should not mention it.

Did he think the house might be bugged now, she wondered. She nodded that she understood. Maybe the back garden might be a safer place to talk. "While you're being so accommodating, maybe you'd consider digging out a patch for me in the garden tomorrow? I'll show you what I need."

His eyes widened as he caught on. "For you? Any time," he said. And he followed her out through the back door.

"What's going on, Lucien?" she whispered fiercely when she knew they couldn't be heard from inside the house.

"I'm not entirely certain yet," he told her. "I discovered that the metal box containing my service revolver has been stolen, and someone was in all the bedrooms."

"You're sure?" asked Jean, shuddering at the thought that a total stranger had been prowling through her bedroom and those of the children.

He nodded. "I suspect it's related somehow to the investigation of Neville Franklin's murder. Doug is convinced Jock Clement has someone in the police spying for him. He may also want to know what I'm up to, or how much Dad's told me, which is why I think he may have planted one or more listening devices inside."

"But why take your gun? If Mister Clement has a contact with the police, surely he can find a way to get a gun without stealing one."

"I haven't worked out that part just yet," Lucien admitted. "Maybe he wants to frame me for something? I don't know. In any case, I'll be sure to let Doug know the gun has been stolen."

"Please, Lucien, be careful," she begged him. Jock Clement was not a man to be taken lightly, and if anything happened to Lucien, well, that was something she didn't even want to consider.

"I will," he promised, "but the best way to neutralise him is to arrest him for Franklin's murder."

That might be so, she thought, but did Lucien have to put himself in the line of fire?

He paused and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Jean, I need to do this, to keep my family safe." He did kiss her cheek this time. "Now, would you mind sending the children out here, please? I'm going to need their help with all this 'digging' of yours," he said with a grin.

* * *

Lucien stood in the back garden waiting for the children, who came outside eager to help him out.

"What do you need us for?" asked Jack, practically jumping up and down at the thought of being able to help out.

"Do you remember that film we saw about Charlie Chan and the Japanese spies?" Lucien began.

All three nodded. They'd seen it at the cinema a few weeks before.

"And do you remember when the spy put that tiny microphone in Mister Chan's hotel room, and he had to find it?"

"He looked everywhere," Li remembered. "Why are you asking about Charlie Chan, Daddy?"

Lucien kissed the top of her head. "That's right, he looked everywhere. Well, I think there's a possibility that someone put a microphone in our house. We need to find it, and that's why I need your help."

"Wow! Let's go!" said Jack.

"Just a moment," said Lucien. "We need to remember that it's a microphone so whoever put it there could be listening to it. So," he held a finger to his lips. "If you find one, don't say anything, just come and get me to show me where it is, understood?"

"Understood," said Jack, while Li and Christopher nodded.

"All right, let's go. Very quietly."

Lucien held the back door open, then followed them inside. The four of them spread out, looking over all the furniture just as Charlie Chan had done in the film they'd seen.

Christopher found the first one, planted behind a stack of plates in the kitchen cupboard. Lucien exchanged a glance with Jean, who was wide-eyed with amazement. She reached for it, but Lucien put a hand on her outstretched arm to stop her. He shook his head, and mouthed, "Not yet." He wanted to speak with Doug first. They might be able to use it to set a trap.

Jean was not happy with the idea that anyone, be it Jock Clement or someone else, could listen to their private conversations, but Lucien decided it would just be for a few more hours at most. He had no intention of allowing anyone to hear what was said between Jean and himself in their late night talks over a last cuppa.

She stared at him for a long moment, reading his thoughts, he was sure, then she nodded her acquiescence. He gave her a quick kiss in appreciation of her trust, but then Li appeared and tugged on his hand. She had found another microphone hidden in a candlestick in the dining room. And a few minutes later Jack found a third one in a lampshade in the parlour.

Lucien himself searched the surgery and the waiting room. Thankfully there were none in either room; no patients' privacy had been invaded. There was one in the study, however, but no more were found.

Jean pointed up the stairs, wondering if there might be more in the bedrooms or bath, but Lucien shook his head. He had searched the second floor thoroughly before coming downstairs.

"We should get these three washed up if we're going to have company for dinner," Lucien announced. "I'll oversee that, Jean."

"Thank you," she said. "I'll just check on dinner."

He escorted the children upstairs, and while they were washing, he explained, "I'll be removing the microphones after dinner tonight, but until then, we won't talk about them, will we?"

"So the bad men don't know we found them?" asked Li.

"That's exactly right," said Lucien. "We'll just have a normal dinner with Violet and her father."

He saw the little smile on Christopher's face at the mention of Violet.

"Now then, hands are all washed. Let's make sure our hair is nice and neat before our company arrives."

Jack giggled. "Your hair is always neat, Dad. It's that goopy stuff you put on it."

"Shall I put some of it on your hair?" Lucien asked.

Jack covered his dark curls with both hands. "No! Yuck!"

Lucien and Li laughed at his antics, but Christopher said softly, "Can I use some on my hair?"

Immediately Lucien stopped laughing. "Yes, of course. Jack and Li, if you're all set you can go down and see if your mother needs any help. Chris and I will be down directly."

* * *

Jean was just starting to set the dining room table when Jack and Li came downstairs giggling together. "What's so funny?" she asked.

The two glanced at each other then giggled again. "Christopher is putting Dad's goopy stuff on his hair," said Jack.

"Hair cream? Many gentlemen use cream on their hair," she pointed out.

"Chris wants to look like a gentleman for Violet," Jack continued. "He likes her."

"Then your brother has very good taste. Violet is a lovely young lady. Now would you two please finish setting the table for me? I'll just get the roast out of the oven to rest before your father carves it."

They were still laughing as she returned to the kitchen. A few minutes later Christopher appeared, looking very handsome and grown up. "Anything I can do, Mum?"

She couldn't help but smile at him. "Thank you, Christopher. You look very nice. Could you make sure the table is set correctly?"

He nodded and went back to the dining room. Jean was well aware of the crush he had on Violet Ashby. While she didn't encourage it, she didn't discourage it either. The two of them weren't even teenagers yet, and after all he'd been through in his very young life, it was comforting to Jean that Christopher was experiencing the type of things most boys his age went through.

She turned her attention back to dinner: slicing bread and making custard to serve with the pie for dessert. She was putting the veg into serving dishes when Violet came into the kitchen.

"Hello, Mrs. Beazley. Is there anything I can help with?" the girl asked.

"Hello, Violet. Don't you look pretty. Where's your father?"

"He's outside talking with Doctor Blake." She lowered her voice, and Jean was afraid the children had told her about the microphones, but she continued, "He has the football tickets Doctor Blake wanted, to go see the Big V."

"Oh, lovely, Jack will be so excited. Now, if you'd like to put the basket of bread on the table for me, I'll call them in so Doctor Blake can carve the meat."

She wiped her hands on her apron and went out onto the porch. As she had suspected, Lucien and the Chief Superintendent were discussing Neville Franklin and Jock Clement.

Upon seeing Jean, Doug removed his cap and nodded in greeting.

Lucien spoke quietly. "Jean, I've told Doug about my gun being stolen and the microphones being planted."

"Yes," said Doug. "We're going to provide whoever's listening some information about the case."

"A setup?" asked Jean.

"That's right. And hope it will drag him out into the open. After dinner I'll take care of the microphones."

"Won't they be suspicious, whoever they are, if you remove all of them? Won't they realise you're feeding them information?"

"As it turns out, I'm familiar with this particular type of equipment they're using," Lucien explained. "Those microphones have a weakness that makes them prone to shorting out, so that's what I'm going to do - short them out."

"I see. Chief Superintendent, do you have any idea why they'd steal Lucien's gun?" Jean asked.

"Not as yet, and please, call me Doug," he urged.

"Yes, of course, Doug. Now dinner's ready, if you two are."

* * *

Early conversation over dinner centered around the children and the happenings at school. Lucien tried to stay engaged, but his attention kept wandering to the microphones planted around the house. He was trying to decide the best way to take advantage of them.

He also considered that if they wanted to convince the listener that the devices were shorting out on their own, it might seem more plausible if they didn't all "fail" at the same time.

He noted that the bottle of wine was nearly empty. He poured the remainder into his glass, then stood up. "If you'll excuse me for just a moment, I'll get another bottle," he announced.

In the kitchen, he quietly removed the stack of plates in front of the microphone planted in the cupboard. Then he drew a glass of water and poured it slowly on the tiny microphone until he heard it hiss and saw a brief spark. Not entirely satisfied that the device was dead, he dropped it on the floor and ground it under the heel of his shoe.

After a quick mop-up with a kitchen towel, he saw to the wine and returned to the table.

Thomas had not yet been made aware of the microphones, but inadvertently he gave Lucien the opening he'd been waiting for.

"You should definitely take a look for it. It could be what you need to break open the investigation," Thomas was saying when Lucien returned to the dining room.

"What's that, Dad?" he asked.

"Neville Franklin's journal. It might well tell you who had reason to want him out of the way," said Thomas. "I'm sure it's in his house somewhere."

"Doug, is someone on duty at Franklin's house?"

Ashby nodded. "Lawson's there all night."

"Good," said Lucien, knowing Clement wouldn't be able to buy off Matthew to get access. "First thing in the morning I'll go over there and take a look for it."

He saw Jean look at him sharply, so he held a finger to his lips, silently asking her to hold her objections until they could discuss the matter later in private. She didn't look happy, but she held her tongue.

The rest of the dinner passed without incident. As they got up from the table afterwards and Jean began clearing away, Lucien deliberately dripped hot candle wax onto the microphone hidden in the candlestick. When he heard it hiss and pop, he emptied it onto the floor and ground it with his heel just as he'd done with the first one. Jean glared briefly at the mess he'd made, but he could see she was happy to see the little bugger gone.

After he'd destroyed the ones in the parlour lamp and in the study, he rejoined Doug so they could speak freely.

"If Franklin did keep a journal, your father might be right, it could well be the break we need," said Doug.

"Do you have any idea who on the force Clement has compromised?" Lucien asked.

"I've narrowed it down to one of two people. It's either the desk sergeant, Russell West or Constable Bill Hobart. Or maybe both of them."

"Young Hobart? Wasn't his father on the force?" asked Lucien.

Doug nodded. "Eddie Hobart retired after he took a bullet in the knee in the line of duty. He was quite chummy with Harry MacDonald, the chief that Clement had in his pocket. I don't know for sure that Eddie was on the take, but if he was, it stands to reason his son is as well."

Lucien considered that for a moment. He'd gotten the impression Bill Hobart was a copper through and through. A bit too zealous, if anything, but hardly corrupt. Then again, Doug had been dealing with Clement's villainy for much longer than Lucien himself, so he decided to trust the man's judgment. "Right, then I think you should send them both out to stand guard at Franklin's house tomorrow morning at the same time that I go to look for his journal."

"You aren't afraid one or both of them will have a go at you?"

"No, I think they're just the eyes and ears. I think Mister Clement prefers to be hands on when it comes to eliminating, shall we say, complications."

"I suspect you're right about that, Lucien. No one to pin the actual murder on him, now that Franklin's out of the way. He won't want to make the same mistake twice and leave loose ends again."

"Which means he'll be desperate to get that journal. You might want to send some backup for Lawson for tonight, just to be on the safe side. Chances are Clement will wait until he has his own man on the scene before trying to get into Franklin's house, but I don't think we can take a chance on him getting to it before we're ready for him."

"I've been thinking the same thing. I'll just use your telephone to call the station."

"Be my guest," said Lucien. His mind was already occupied with what he might be facing at Franklin's house in the morning.


	30. Chapter 30

While Lucien showed Doug to the door, Jean went upstairs to check on the children. It was very late, and she wanted to be sure Li and Violet had finally settled down after at least an hour of whispering and giggling together. She found all four children sound asleep now. Tucking the blankets securely around each of them, she kissed their foreheads and wished them a whispered 'sweet dreams'.

When she returned downstairs, Lucien had just put the kettle on and was setting out the cups for them.

"Are you sure no one is listening now?" she asked softly.

"Quite sure, my dear," he told her.

Satisfied his assurance, she took over making the tea, and when they were both seated and cradling the warm cups in their hands, she said, "Where did you learn so much about listening devices?"

"When I first joined the army, they had me in training for the Intelligence Services," he explained. "I was only transferred to the Infantry Medical Corps later, when it became obvious that the Japanese ground forces were the greatest threat to the Commonwealth. In fact, if the Japanese advance hadn't been quite so rapid, I might never have been in Singapore when it fell."

"And we might never have met," said Jean, the realisation nearly taking her breath away. _God works in mysterious ways_, she couldn't help thinking. She shuddered to imagine how different her life would be; wondering if she and her sons would even have survived the camp without Lucien.

"It does make me wonder, though, how Jock Clement or his people got their hands on those devices," Lucien said.

"My guess would be they were Army surplus," said Jean. "I was speaking with a man at the market last week who said there was a sale in Melbourne recently. Everything from canteens to old vehicles."

"Yes, possibly. Let's just hope there were no munitions involved. That's all the police need to deal with, civilians with machine guns or land mines."

"Speaking of the police, do you really need to be involved in their operation to catch Jock Clement?" she asked. Knowing how impetuous he could be, she worried for his safety.

Lucien put down his cup to focus on her. "Jean, that man killed my mother, and he used me as a lever to keep my father quiet about it all these years. I need to do whatever I can to bring him to justice. But I promise you, I'll be careful."

"You'd better be," she warned him. "You have people who love you and depend on you, don't forget that."

"I won't. And besides all that, I made a promise to Jack to take him to see the footie day after tomorrow. I can't go back on that now, can I?"

* * *

Lucien stopped at the station first thing in the morning. He met with Doug, who promptly summoned Constables West and Hobart. "The doctor's father says Franklin kept a journal. I want the two of you to accompany him to the Franklin house and relieve Lawson on guard outside while Doctor Blake has a look inside to see if he can find it."

"You want us to help him find it?" Hobart asked.

"No, I want you to make sure no one else goes inside. The house isn't that big, I'm sure the doctor can find the journal if it's there. West, you take the front, Hobart the rear. Understood?"

Both men nodded. Doug gave Lucien a hard look of warning, then said, "All right, on your way."

Riding in the police car on the way to Franklin's house, Lucien made small talk to calm his own nerves and (hopefully) allay suspicion that this was anything other than what it looked like.

"I take it neither of you were acquainted with the deceased?"

"A toff like that? Not a chance," said West, a man in his late twenties who'd joined the force after spending time in the Military Police during the war. He still sported his army haircut and walked with a confident swagger.

"I think maybe my father met him once or twice, but I never had the pleasure," said young Hobart.

Lucien nodded, thinking that if the newest constable was on the take it was doubtful he'd confirm any connection at all to Franklin or Clement. If Lucien had been a betting man, he'd put his money on West as being the one compromised.

"I never met him either," he told the others, "although _my _father seemed to know him as well. I'm assuming a preliminary search was made of the house after the man died."

"Nobody reported seeing a journal, though," said West. "What's so important about it anyway?"

"Well, if the man had any enemies who might have wanted him dead, chances are he would have mentioned them in his journal at some point, wouldn't you say?" asked Lucien.

Hobart smirked at that, clearly thinking that much was obvious but reluctant to show up his fellow officer.

Lucien quickly changed the subject, not wanting to get on West's bad side. "Do you chaps follow the football? I'm taking my fiancée's young son to see the Big V. I've never been before and wondered if there's anything I need to know about getting in and out of the place."

West shook his head. "Sorry, Doc. Never been to see them."

"I have," said Hobart. "I go quite a bit. I'd be going myself except I'm rostered on. One of the players is a mate of mine."

"Is that right?" Lucien said.

"Tell you what, if you want I can call him and arrange so you and the boy can meet him after the match," Hobart offered.

"Jack would be thrilled, if you could do that. Thank you, Bill."

Hobart shrugged. "Always like to see a new generation of fans. Keep the sport alive."

"Indeed," said Lucien.

The car pulled up to the front of a rather imposing residence. "Here we go," said West.

Lucien noted that the man glanced all around, as though he were looking for something, or someone. Lucien himself nodded to Matthew, who turned the post over to West and headed down the street.

"I'd better get inside and start looking for that journal," said Lucien. Hobart walked inside with him to go through to the back door.

Once he was alone, Lucien looked around to familiarise himself with the house and get an idea of where Franklin might have kept the journal. When he saw the man's office, that seemed to be the logical place to start, and so he began going through the large desk. All the while, he kept his ears open, listening for indications that someone else was in the house.

It didn't take long to find the journal in the bottom drawer of the desk. Lucien pulled it out carefully and flipped to the end to see Franklin's last entry, dated the very day he died. He began to read quickly as he heard surreptitious footsteps approaching.

Looking outwardly calm, he closed the journal and folded his hands atop it. "Mister Clement," he said, moments before the man entered the room.

"Expecting me, were you, young Blake?" He held Lucien's service revolver in front of him, casually pointed toward him.

"When I heard footsteps, it had to be you, didn't it?"

"Very clever of you. I'd heard you were smarter than your father, and so you are. Just not smart enough, it seems."

"Oh? You're planning to shoot me with my own gun? You don't think that will look suspicious?"

"Oh, I'm not going to shoot you. You're going to do it. After all, you said it yourself in this morning's newspaper: we're going to see a whole lot of suicides as a result of the war," said Clement with a pleasant smile. "So very sad."

So that was the plan all along. Lucien admitted to himself that he hadn't seen it coming. Could he talk his way out of this now?

"No one will believe it," he said firmly. "In fact, in the car here I was telling the constables that I'm looking forward to attending a football match tomorrow. Does it make sense that I'd then come inside and shoot myself?"

"Except that no one will know you said it for sure. If young Constable Hobart tries to claim that, Constable West will dispute it."

Neatly done, Lucien had to admit. Studying Clement, he calculated his chances of taking the gun away. They weren't good at the moment. He'd need to keep the man talking and wait for a better opportunity.

"So tell me, when you killed my mother, was Franklin in on it from the start or did you blackmail him, too, like you did to my father? You see, I haven't had time to read all of this," he said, holding up the journal.

"Let's say he was a somewhat unwilling accomplice, but an accomplice nonetheless. The prospect of going to prison for the rest of his life was enough to keep him in line, until recently at least."

"So you had to kill him, as well." Lucien's voice was filled with disgust.

"Not that I wanted to. Neville was probably the closest thing I had to a friend, but I couldn't very well let him spill the beans after all these years, could I? What do you want from me?"

Lucien's eyes narrowed. "I want the life you took from my mother, from my father, and the life you took from me!"

"I don't like your chances," said Clement. "It was all so very long ago, and believe it or not, I was actually sorry I had to do it. Your mother was a beautiful, vivacious woman. If she'd only accepted my advances she'd still be alive today."

He didn't even realize that they were no longer alone in the room. Doug and Matthew had slipped in behind him and were listening to every word.

"She was a beautiful, vivacious woman who loved her husband," Lucien insisted, trying to draw Clement further into the room so the other men would have room to maneuver and take him down. "And you killed her because of that. You're pathetic, do you know that?"

"I think I've heard all I need to hear from you," said Clement. "Hand over the journal." He waved the gun at Lucien.

"Yes, and we've heard all we need to hear," said Doug from behind him. "You hand over the gun."

Clement spun around to see him, which gave Lucien the opening he'd sought. He moved toward the armed man, who began to turn back to him, but Doug grabbed the hand that held the gun.

The two men struggled for control of the firearm for what seemed like hours to those watching it, but then two shots rang out. Both Lucien and Matthew stepped in, Matthew grabbing Clement while Lucien reached for Doug.

Matthew managed to knock the gun to the floor and got Clement's arm twisted up behind him in a lock. But Doug was reeling back against Lucien, clutching his midsection where blood was already spreading across the front of his tunic.

"Doug!" Lucien lowered him to the floor, trying to get a look at the wounds. "Call the ambos," he begged Matthew.

Matthew fastened handcuffs on Clement, then grabbed for the telephone.

At that moment both West and Hobart came running in, having heard the shots. Not knowing if he could trust either of them, Matthew looked to Lucien.

"Constable Hobart, Bill, could you please take Mister West into custody?" Lucien told him.

Hobart, not sure he could take orders from the police surgeon, said, "Sarge?"

"Do it," Matthew barked.

Knowing he didn't stand a chance, West made a break for the door, but Hobart took him down with a flying tackle. Lucien might have been impressed if he wasn't so busy working to keep Doug alive. He tried frantically to staunch the blood all the while wishing he had his medical bag with him.

"Ambos on the way," said Matthew. "How's he doing?"

"Not good. Blood loss is substantial." Lucien looked down at his patient. "Stay with me, Doug. Come on, now. That beautiful little girl needs you."

If he just made it to hospital alive, Lucien was sure he could save the man. It seemed like an eternity before he heard the wail of the ambulance siren.


	31. Chapter 31

Jean hurried through her housework in the morning so that she and the boys could spend the whole afternoon at the farm. All the while she worked, though, her concern for Lucien's safety played on her mind. She had a bad feeling about this case, particularly in regard to the ruthlessness of Jock Clement. He'd already made it clear that he was willing to destroy anyone who got in his way.

It had been decided that Violet would spend the day with Li, and Lucien would take both girls to the cinema while Jean and the boys went to the farm. She wondered now if he would be home in time. If not, would it make more sense to take the girls along with them to the farm or postpone the trip there to another day?

Before she could decide one way or the other, the telephone rang.

"Doctor Blake's residence."

"Jean..."

Lucien's voice sounded funny, but she was so relieved to hear him that it didn't really register. "What's going on?" she asked.

"I only have a moment before surgery," he began.

She panicked. "Surgery? Lucien!"

"Jean, Jean, I'm not a patient, I'm performing surgery," he quickly assured her. "It's Doug. He's been shot."

"How bad is it?" she asked, feeling guilty for her relief that it wasn't Lucien who was injured.

"It's bad. Jean, I think it would be best if you brought Violet here right away. Can you manage it?"

She thought quickly. Yes, Lucien was right. If the worst happened, Violet should be with her father. "We'll be there shortly," she promised. "Lucien, please, save him. That poor little girl."

"I'll do my best."

After hanging up, she gathered the children around her. "Christopher, I need you to take Jack and Li, and walk down to your Auntie Mary's house. Stay with her until we come to get you, understood?"

Christopher nodded. "What's wrong, Mum?"

"What about Violet?" asked Li, glancing at her friend.

Jean had a difficult time looking Violet in the eye, but the girl needed to know what was going on. "Violet, dear, I'm afraid your father's been hurt. We need to go the hospital right now."

The little girl's eyes filled with tears. "Is he going to die?" she asked in a tiny voice. Being a bright girl and the daughter of a policeman she had to know this could happen.

"Lucien, Doctor Blake, is doing his best. He was just taking your father into surgery. We should go now."

Christopher spoke up. "Violet, I'm very sorry about your father. I hope he's all right. Come on, Li and Jack, let's go so Mum and Violet can get to the hospital."

Li hesitated, then walked over to hug Violet and then Jean before following Christopher to the door. Jack said, "Sorry, Violet" and then went with the others.

Jean put an arm around Violet's shoulders and together they hurried toward town and the hospital. As they reached the front door, Matthew Lawson met them.

"Hello, Matthew," Jean greeted him. "This is Violet Ashby."

"I know Miss Ashby," said Matthew, tipping his cap to both of them.

"How's he doing?" Jean asked.

"Still in surgery," Matthew reported. "Why don't you come in and sit. The sister said she'd bring word in as soon as there's any news."

Violet slipped her hand into Jean's, and together they went to sit where Matthew indicated.

"Do you need anything?" he asked them. "Tea? Water? Something to eat?"

Jean looked to Violet, who shook her head. "No, thank you. We'll just wait for news. But if you need to be somewhere else..."

"I need to get a statement from Blake when he finishes up," Matthew explained.

Jean paused. She had no idea what had even happened, other than that Doug had been shot. "Did Jock Clement do this?" she asked.

"He did. We have him in custody, and with Lucien's statement, he's sure to be put away."

Matthew didn't say as much, but Jean knew that if he was convicted, Mister Clement would likely be hanged. "And he was responsible for Neville Franklin? And Mrs. Blake?"

"It seems so."

Jean sighed and put her arm around Violet once more. She would need to provide some comfort and solace to Lucien later, she knew, once the crisis with Doug was over.

The three of them sat that way for some time until finally the sister approached them. "Senior Sergeant, Mrs. Beazley, Violet, the surgery just finished. The chief superintendent is being moved to a room now. Doctor Blake will be out shortly to speak with you."

"Thank you, Sister," said Jean. She squeezed Violet's shoulder. "That's very good news, isn't it? Your father came through the surgery."

Violet, who had been so brave and stoic thus far, broke into tears of relief, Jean quickly gathered the sweet girl into her arms, and held her while she sobbed.

"It's all right. Let it out," Jean soothed her, while Matthew shifted uncomfortably, at a complete loss as to how to help, other than to hand them his handkerchief.

Violet was wiping away the remains of her tears when Lucien came out, still in his surgical scrubs. Immediately he went to Violet and crouched down to take her hands. "He's going to be fine, your father. He came through the operation like the champion he is," he assured her.

"Can I see him now?" asked Violet.

"In about an hour. He's still sleeping right now, and that's very good for him, just what he needs." He looked up at Jean. "Maybe the two of you could get a cup of tea and a sandwich, and by the time you finish, he should be awake."

"That sounds like a good idea, doesn't it, Violet?" said Jean.

"All right, Mrs. Beazley. Thank you, Doctor Blake."

"You're very welcome. And just so you don't worry about it, I spoke with your father just before the surgery and he agreed you should stay with us while he's in hospital, if that's agreeable with you, Violet."

Tears threatened again as she looked up at Lucien. Obviously it had been weighing heavily on her mind, what would happen to her.

"Of course she'll stay with us," Jean said firmly. "If it's all right with you, Lucien, we'll take the car when we leave here so we can stop by Violet's home to pick up what she'll need for a few days' stay."

"An excellent idea," said Lucien. "Now if you ladies will excuse me I'll get dressed properly and look in on my patient."

"I'm going to need a witness statement from you, when you have a minute," Matthew reminded him.

"As soon as I've changed," Lucien promised.

* * *

They met up in Doug's room so that Lucien could keep an eye on his patient until he regained consciousness.

Lucien glanced up at the clock while Matthew opened up his pad in preparation for taking the statement. Not quite two o'clock. It felt much later, as though the day should nearly be over.

"You ready?" asked Matthew.

He nodded, closed his eyes for just a moment to picture every detail of Franklin's home, then began to relate everything that happened. When he'd reached the part where Doug and Matthew had entered, Matthew stopped him. "So he never outright confessed to killing either Franklin or your mother?"

"If you're asking did he say yes, I killed them, then no, he didn't. But when I accused him of killing them, rather than deny it, he gave the reasons why it was done," said Lucien. "Plus he admitted he was planning to kill me, and he shot Doug. That should be plenty."

"Oh, we'll nail him, one way or the other," Matthew assured him. "It would just be neater if he'd actually confessed to any of it."

"Well, you can also throw in his threats against my father. I'm sure Dad will gladly testify now that Clement's no longer a danger to any of us." He paused. "Have you considered pressing Constable West to provide testimony against Clement? Maybe if I could sit in when you question him, I could help with that."

Matthew shook his head emphatically. "You're not going anywhere near the station while Clement is there," he barked.

"And why not?"

"The man killed your mother, blackmailed your father and was perfectly willing to kill you. That's why you won't be going anywhere near him."

"Certainly not," murmured Doug, slowly opening his eyes. "Too impulsive, Lucien."

"I beg your pardon," said Lucien.

"You heard me," said Doug. "And by the way, thank you for saving my life."

"How are you feeling?" Lucien asked him, moving closer to take his pulse.

"Like a very old man - weak and tired," said Doug. "Violet?"

"Violet is just fine. Jean is with her. They'll be here shortly. And when she's finished here, Jean will take her home to stay with us until you're released from hospital."

"You're a good man, Lucien. Thank you."

"Li will be happy to have her there, and Christopher, well, Christopher has a bit of crush on Violet, so he'll be delighted that she's staying with us."

Doug raised an eyebrow at that. "Violet is much too young for a boyfriend."

"And Christopher is much too young for a girlfriend," said Lucien. "It's completely harmless, I promise."

"I wonder if you'll feel the same when it's your daughter involved," Doug growled.

"Probably not," Lucien admitted with a laugh.

At that very moment there was a light tapping on the door. Jean and Violet had returned.

"I'd better get back to the station, interview West," said Matthew. "Glad you're going to be all right, boss."

"And we'll leave you and Violet to talk," said Lucien. "Not too long. You need your rest."

"I'll make sure he does, Doctor Blake," Violet promised.

"I'll count on you, then," said Lucien before he escorted Jean out into the hall. Immediately she pulled him into the empty room next door and pushed the door closed.

"I thought I'd lost you," she told him, tears in her eyes, just before she clasped her hands behind his neck and pulled him down to kiss him.

He gave himself over to it, enjoying the taste of her and the depth of her love for him. He let her be the one to end it, then he rubbed his hands over her arms in comfort.

"I'm fine," he assured her. "Matthew and Doug were there the whole time."

"Yes, and look what happened to Doug," she pointed out. "If you'd been the one shot, could they have kept you alive until they could get you to hospital?"

She had a point, he knew. It had been a near thing with Doug. If Lucien hadn't been on hand would he have made it?

"Thank God you _were _there," Jean continued. "That poor girl couldn't bear to lose her father, too, just as our children couldn't bear to lose you, Lucien. You need to be more careful."

"Yes, I know," he sighed, and he really did. The three children, and Jean too, had had more than enough loss already in their lives. Jean was right, he needed to take care of himself for all their sakes.

She gave him another quick kiss before leading the way back to the corridor outside Doug's room.

"You'll be here for a while?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so," he told her. "I want to be sure he's stable, with no reaction from the anesthesia."

"I'll keep a plate warm, in case you don't make it home for dinner."

"Thank you, Jean. I'm sorry about your trip to the farm."

She gave him a gentle smile. "Couldn't be helped. We can try again next weekend. Shall I break the news to Jack about the football tomorrow?"

"No need. We'll still go," he insisted. "As long as Doug is out of the woods, medically speaking."

"Are you sure? You'll be exhausted. Jack will understand."

"He shouldn't have to. I can always take a quick nap on the train if I need to. Really, Jean, it'll be fine."

"As long as you're sure it won't be too much."

"I'm looking forward to it," he assured her, and he was. He could just imagine Jack's excitement at the event. That alone would make the journey worthwhile.


	32. Chapter 32

Jean was dreaming of the future, of being married to Lucien, of being in a large double bed and waiting for him to join her. In her dream there was a chill in the air, and before joining her he spread an extra blanket over her shoulders then bent down to kiss her forehead. It felt so lovely that it took her a moment to realize it was no dream. She had fallen asleep on the couch as she waited for him to get home from the hospital.

When she opened her eyes, Lucien was standing over her, smiling down. She could read the exhaustion in the lines at the corners of his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you," he said softly.

She sat up, pushing aside the blanket he'd draped over her. "I need to go to bed anyway, now that you're home safely," she insisted. "Doug is all right?"

"He should be fine, a week or so in hospital, I'm afraid, and another few weeks recuperating at home, then he should be right as rain. How is Violet handling it?" He sat down beside her on the couch.

"A little more quiet than usual, but our three are keeping her spirits up," said Jean, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Good. Maybe you could take them to the cinema tomorrow while Jack and I are in Melbourne," he suggested. "Make it up to them for what they missed today."

She sat up straight to look at him. "You were planning to have the girls see _The Yearling, _weren't you?"

"That's right," he nodded.

"Let me get this straight. You're fine with the idea of me spending the afternoon with Gregory Peck?" she teased him.

"Yes, as long as the children are there to chaperone."

She sighed. "Yes, there is that to consider."

He kissed her cheek. "I trust you completely, my dear, even with Gregory Peck. And now we really should get some sleep, I think."

"Oh, wait, I have a note for you first," she told him. "Constable Hobart called earlier with some information about tomorrow. He asked me to pass it on to you. You're sure you still feel up to the trip to Melbourne?"

"I'm fine, Jean, really. Just need a few hours sleep and I'll be good as new."

She wasn't sure that would be the case, but she knew better than to try to argue. Lucien wouldn't disappoint Jack now for anything. She handed him the note with the directions from Bill Hobart, and watched him smile as he read it over.

"I hope it makes more sense to you than it did to me," she told him.

"Perfect sense, thank you," he assured her, before he took her hand and together they went upstairs, to their separate beds much to the regret of both of them.

* * *

In the morning Jean finished dressing and stepped out of her bedroom just as Jack was approaching her door, already dressed but looking quite upset.

"Good morning, sweetheart. What's wrong?" she asked him.

"I was going to make sure Dad was awake so we won't miss the train to Melbourne, but he's not there. His door was open," Jack explained.

"Maybe he's downstairs already," she suggested. "Shall we have a look?"

She led the way down to the kitchen and saw Jack's face fall when there was no one there. Jean patted his arm in consolation, wondering herself where Lucien had gotten to. It was then she spied the note propped against the sugar bowl, with Jack's name written on it in a very familiar hand.

She handed it to the boy, who read it aloud.

"Dear son." He paused to grin at her for that before continuing. "I've just popped down to have a look at Violet's father before we go. Please be ready and I'll be there to pick you up in time to catch the train. I'm very much looking forward to spending the day with you. Give your mother a good morning kiss for me, and I'll see you soon. Love, Dad."

"Did you think he'd forgotten such a big day?" Jean asked, while thinking that note was perhaps the sweetest gesture she'd ever seen. If she wasn't already madly in love with the man, the note would have made her adore him even more.

Jack smiled at her, and said very softly, "Mum?"

She leaned down, and shyly he kissed her cheek. "He's the best dad ever," he said.

"We're very fortunate, aren't we? Now, let's get you some breakfast so you'll be ready to go when he gets back."

She had sent Jack to wash his hands while she started preparing the meal for the others when she heard Lucien's car pull up. She smiled to herself in anticipation of seeing him. Deliberately she kept her back to the doorway as she busied herself at the stove. Just as she'd hoped, he crept up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her behind the ear.

"Good morning, my darling," he whispered.

She turned to face him, her smile broadening. "Good morning," she whispered back. "How are you, and how is Doug doing?"

"Much better this morning. We just need to make sure he gets some rest, despite the policemen dropping in to visit him at all hours."

"I was planning to take Violet down for a visit after the cinema, but if you think it would be better if we wait until tomorrow..."

"Yes, I think it would be best," said Lucien. "And speaking of the cinema, why not invite your sister and her children to join you? And since Dad will be at the club's snooker tournament until this evening, you could all go out to dinner afterwards." He pulled out his wallet and handed her several notes.

She frowned at him. "Lucien, I'm perfectly able to afford it from my wages."

He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "I know, my dear, but since I won't be with you, it would make me very happy if you'd allow me to treat all of you."

Jean was tempted to remind him that it wasn't as though he was deliberately missing a family event; he was fulfilling a promise to his soon-to-be son. But she knew it would do no good anyway - he'd still feel guilty. If paying for their day would help him feel better about all of it, she would allow it. "Very well," she said, accepting the money. "But only if you promise to enjoy your time with Jack today."

"I have every intention of enjoying my day with Jack, and here he is now. Ready to go?"

"Ready!" he said. "Bye, Mum."

"You mind your manners, and do what Dad tells you, young man," she told the boy.

"I will," he said as he tugged Lucien toward the door.

Lucien shrugged and blew her a kiss as they left.

Jean made herself a vow to trust that Lucien would make the day special for Jack, just as he had done with Christopher, and there was no reason to worry about either of them. Instead she would concentrate on making the day special for Christopher and Li, as well as poor Violet.

* * *

They settled into their seats on the train. This early on a Sunday morning the carriage was nearly empty. Jack took the seat next to the window, and as soon as the train pulled away from the station he had his nose pressed against the glass to take in the sights.

Beside him, Lucien slid down in the seat and stretched his legs out straight in front of him. He knew he wouldn't sleep, but the temptation to close his eyes was overwhelming.

"Jack, would you mind terribly if I had a bit of a kip?" he asked.

The boy shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the window for just a moment to face Lucien. "Mum said you needed to sleep more."

"Yes, well, your mum is right, as usual. I'm just going to rest my eyes. You'll stay right here, yes?"

"Uh huh," Jack said.

"Good man," said Lucien, and he pulled his fedora down to cover his eyes as he closed them.

His exhaustion and the motion of the train had him dozing off almost at once. He wasn't certain how long he was asleep, but the sound of voices woke him. He realized one of them was Jack's and it seemed agitated.

"No!" Jack said firmly.

"Come on, then, son," said a man's voice he didn't recognize. "We won't be gone long."

Lucien's eyes flew open, fearing that an attempted abduction was occurring. He was half out of his seat trying to protect Jack before he recognized that the man before him was a railroad employee.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir," the man said, tipping his cap. "I just thought the lad might like to see the engine, but he insisted on staying here."

Lucien quickly put a protective arm around Jack. "Thank you for the offer, but he'd promised he would stay right here if I fell asleep, and he's a man of his word." He looked down at the boy. "Do you want to take a look at the engine, son?"

Jack shook his head. "Mum said I should stay with you."

"There you have it," Lucien told the man. "Thank you anyway."

When he had left, Lucien released his hold. "Are you sure you don't want to go see the engine?" he asked the boy.

"I'm sure," Jack said emphatically. "I don't like that man."

"Why not?" Lucien asked, wondering what the trainman might have said to Jack before he woke.

"I don't like his clothes." Jack frowned and shook his head.

"His uniform?"

Jack just stared straight ahead.

Lucien decided it was as good a time as any to speak with the boy about his feelings toward anyone wearing a uniform. "Have a seat, son," he invited. "Now, I know it was a long time ago, but do you remember the first time we met, in the camp?"

He nodded. "After the guard hit me. You fixed my face where it hurt."

"That's right. And I know that the guard that hit you was wearing a uniform, but do you remember what I was wearing?"

Jack's nose scrunched up as he tried to remember. For him it was half a lifetime before.

Lucien decided to help him out. "I was wearing a uniform, too. I was a soldier as well as a doctor, and back then I had a real uniform. Of course, later on after we'd been there for a while, most of it was gone."

"I remember you had short trousers and your shirt didn't have sleeves when you gave us the Christmas presents," said Jack.

"That's right, but only because I no longer had a uniform to wear. What I'm getting at is that a uniform doesn't make someone good or bad. It's the person inside the uniform that is good or bad."

"Like Sergeant Lawson?"

"That's an excellent example," said Lucien. "And your father, too. He was a soldier so he wore a uniform." He allowed Jack to consider that for a few moments before continuing. "Was there another reason you didn't like that gentleman?"

Jack nodded. "You said I shouldn't leave you and so did Mum, but he wanted me to go with him."

"I think perhaps he was just trying to be kind, but you're perfectly right," said Lucien. "He shouldn't have tried to talk you into something you knew you shouldn't do. If that's why you didn't like him, it's entirely justified. Now, what do you say we visit the dining area, eh? Maybe get something to drink?"

The rest of the journey went without incident, and the train delivered them to the Flinders Street station precisely on time. From there they caught a taxi to the Melbourne Cricket Grounds, the home of the Flying V football team as well as the cricket.

Across the road from the grounds there were a few small shops selling goods related to the football. Lucien saw Jack's eyes light up in wonder at the multitude of items, from apparel to blankets to footballs, all emblazoned with the familiar Big V. The boy remembered his manners and did not ask for anything, but Lucien recalled perfectly well how it felt at that age to idolize sportsmen.

"Let's take a closer look, eh?" he suggested, and Jack was only too willing to comply. They emerged several minutes later with Jack wearing a new jumper and waving a pennant in support of his favourite side.

They crossed the road to find that the area immediately outside the grounds themselves was crowded with people waiting to go inside for the match. Lucien reached down for Jack's hand to be certain they wouldn't be separated in the crush of people. Together they made their way forward, Lucien keeping an eye open for a special entrance per the instructions from Constable Hobart.

He was so intent on finding it that he wasn't looking down until Jack tugged on his hand and pointed. "Look, Dad, that boy's crying."

Lucien saw the figure then, a lad of about Jack's age with his head hanging and tears streaming down his face. Thinking perhaps he'd been separated from his parents, Lucien let Jack lead him over beside the boy, where Lucien crouched down to get a better look.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked. "Are you lost?"

The boy shook his head. Hanging from his hand was a homemade pennant, a hand drawn V on a sheet of paper taped to what looked like a portion of a broomstick. Lucien could tell how much care had gone into the drawing, with an elaborate set of wings flanking the two sides of the V, and the background lovingly coloured in the traditional dark blue shade.

"I made this so I'd have a pennant too," the boy managed through his tears. "It took me a long time and I thought it was really good, but those older boys made fun of me because I made it myself."

"Can I see?" Jack asked him.

The other boy, seeming a bit buoyed by someone taking an interest in what he'd done, lifted it so Jack could take a closer look.

"Wow! That's great!" he said. "You really made that?"

"It's not as good as yours." He pointed to the pennant they'd just purchased.

"I think it's better," Jack insisted. "You want to trade?"

"Really?"

"Really. I like yours because it's not like everybody else's."

"Okay, let's trade."

Lucien stepped in before the transaction was completed. "Are you certain you want to give it away after you spent so much time on it? You've really done a beautiful job here."

The boy nodded. "It's spoiled now, after what they said," he insisted miserably.

If it had been Jack who'd made the banner and let others spoil it for him, Lucien would have talked to him about not allowing the opinions of others to devalue him and his accomplishments, but knowing nothing of the other boy's circumstances he decided that if both of them were happy with the transaction he'd allow it, unless the boy's parents objected.

"Are you here with your father or someone else?" Lucien asked him.

"Nope, on my own. I live just over around the corner," the boy explained, pointing in the direction of home. He looked considerably less sad now that Jack and Lucien had appreciated the work he'd put into his creation.

"You see many matches then, do you?"

"Only when someone has an extra ticket to give away. I just come before the match starts. I like to cheer on the players when they arrive and then I stay until everyone's gone inside," he explained.

"You see the players up close?" asked Jack, clearly impressed.

"As a matter of fact, I was just looking for the players' entrance when Jack here spotted you," Lucien said. "Maybe you could point it out to us? I'm Doctor Blake, by the way."

"Tony Harris," said the boy, pointing to his own chest. "Come on, I'll show you where it is." He waved his newly acquired pennant in front of him as he led the way."

Jack followed, waving his own acquisition, with Lucien bringing up the rear to keep an eye on both of them.

The players' entrance was cordoned off to prevent anyone from getting too close, and there was a security guard on hand to keep order. Jack and young Tony moved right up to the barrier, but Lucien stepped over to speak with the guard.

"How do you do? Lucien Blake here. I was told to ask for Joe Turner, that he'd be expecting me," he informed the man.

The guard nodded. "I'll send him your way as soon as he arrives."

"Thank you. I'll be just over there with my son."

He hadn't told Jack that Hobart had arranged for him to meet the man who was one of the boy's favourite players.

They waited as the sportsmen began to arrive. Tony seemed to know them all, naming each man as he entered and pointing them out to Jack, who was clearly impressed. Mister Turner was one of the last to enter, and Jack's eyes widened to see his hero in person. The man looked every inch the part, with his wavy black hair, piercing green eyes, huge shoulders, and trim waist. He waved to the supporters on hand as he walked over to the guard, who pointed out Lucien.

"Oy, Doctor Blake," he called, holding out a hand which Lucien shook. "Hobie said you'd be here. These your boys?"

"This one is Jack," said Lucien, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And this young man is our friend, Tony."

"Pleased to meet you, fellas," said Turner. He spotted the pennant Jack held, the one Tony had created. "My word, that's a real corker. Well done."

"Tony made it. Isn't it great?" said Jack.

"It sure is," said Turner. "You're an artist, Tony. We ought to have that winged V on our kit, it's that good."

Tony smiled, now proud of his creation once again. It didn't matter if the older boys hadn't liked it, not when Joe Turner himself had praised it.

"I'll tell you what," said Turner, "I think the three of you should watch the match from the team box so our owner can see that pennant, too. What do you say?"

Jack looked to Lucien, as did young Tony. "Why not, eh? Thank you, Mister Turner, that's very generous of you."

"Stay right here. I'll have Harry the guard over there get someone to take you inside. Enjoy the match."

"Good luck!" both boys told him as the footballer moved away.

A few minutes later an elderly usher arrived to escort them into the grounds. As they began to walk, Lucien leaned down to say quietly to Jack, "I think your friend Tony might want his own pennant back. Would you mind awfully?"

Jack glanced over at his new pal. "You should take this," he said, holding it out. "You did all the work on it."

Gladly Tony took back the pennant he'd made and waved it proudly now. Lucien saw him glance in the direction of a group of other boys who were perhaps three or four years older. They saw Tony and nudged each other as Lucien, Jack and Tony strode past them and into the section set aside for friends and family of the team's players and executives. A couple of mouths were hanging open in shock that the boy they'd ridiculed was being treated as a VIP.

Tony (as well as Jack) felt special indeed.

* * *

_A/N: The incident with young Tony is loosely based on an actual event. A schoolteacher in Florida had told her class that they would be having School Colors Day the following Friday, and they should all wear apparel for the team they supported. One boy was a fan of the University of Tennessee, and there wasn't time for him to get anything from that far away, so he made one for himself by drawing his own version of the Tennessee logo on a piece of paper and pinning it to the front of an orange t-shirt (the team color for the University of Tennessee). He was very proud of the shirt he'd made, but after lunch the teacher found him alone in the classroom crying. Some of the other children had ridiculed him at lunch for his handmade shirt. The teacher shared his story on social media to show the effects of bullying on the child. Someone at the University of Tennessee saw it, and the university's Athletics Department sent the boy a big carton filled with team items to share with the whole class. And then they created an official school shirt featuring the boy's version of the logo to sell with their other merchandise. It sold out immediately._


	33. Chapter 33

_Author's Note: Once again I beg your pardon for the delay in updating. Let me assure you that I have not abandoned this or "Blues". I write some almost every day, but the strangeness of the world right now makes concentration a fleeting concept. Have no fear, I will finish both of them. Jean and Lucien are still very dear to my heart, and I enjoy escaping into their world, however briefly._

Lucien did not follow Australian football closely. His years in Europe while at university and in training for his medical license had left him much more interested in the European version of the game. Since being home, he had played football with the children and helped Jack with the articles on the sports pages of the newspapers, answering any questions the boy happened to have. Overall he preferred to watch cricket, boxing or tennis. Consequently, he was only half watching the big match, paying more attention to Jack and his new friend, Tony. The boys seemed to be enjoying it immensely, which was all Lucien needed to know.

At halftime he was just about to suggest that they go find something to drink when the steward who had escorted them to their seats at Joe Turner's behest appeared once again, this time carrying two cloth sacks bearing the Big V insignia. Out of the corner of his eye Lucien saw that the older boys who had bullied poor Tony were watching closely.

The steward addressed Lucien. "Sir, Mister Turner has sent these items to the boys, if it's agreeable to you."

"Yes, of course. Please send Mister Turner our appreciation," said Lucien. He took the two sacks and handed them to Jack and Tony, who grinned at each other in delight.

Inside of them each boy found a youth size team jumper, a scarf in the Big V's team colours, and a football signed by the players.

"This is great!" Jack crowed. "Isn't Joe Turner a bonzer player?"

"He's certainly very kind," Lucien agreed. "Once we're back home it might be polite to send him a note to thank him."

"I will. You'll help me write it, Dad?"

It still thrilled Lucien every time the boy called him that. "My pleasure," he assured Jack.

Tony's eyes had welled up at the sight of his largesse. "I'm going to write to him, too," he vowed.

"I'm sure he'll be happy to know his gifts were received and enjoyed," said Lucien.

The second half of the match was exciting, with the two sides exchanging scores, until Joe Turner launched the winning goal just a few moments before the final quarter came to a close. The boys were delighted with the outcome and cheered wildly for the home side, throwing their arms over each other's shoulders in solidarity.

Lucien had been concerned about how Jack would perceive the whole adventure if his side were to lose the match, so he was almost as happy as the boys with the final result.

When the players had left the field of play, Lucien and the boys made certain they were leaving nothing behind and began to make their way toward the exit gates. With the crowd of people all eager to leave at once, Lucien had a difficult time keeping Jack in sight before they finally got outside where the crush quickly thinned. Tony was still beside Jack, the two making plans to stay in touch. Lucien couldn't help but smile at how rapidly children formed friendships.

But as Tony was saying goodbye to head for his home, Lucien noticed the same group of older lads eying him with a predatory gleam. He suspected they had seen the goods Turner had provided and intended to relieve Tony of his prizes.

"You said you live just around the corner?" Lucien asked.

Tony nodded.

"Then why don't we walk you home," he suggested, "just to be sure you arrive safely."

"You don't have to," said Tony, obviously not wishing to be a bother.

"We don't mind, do we, Jack? We have time before our train."

He saw Tony glance in the direction of those who'd bullied him. "All right, this way," he said.

It wasn't a wealthy neighbourhood, and Tony's home was somewhat shabby, although meticulously neat.

A woman with a strong resemblance to the boy was in the doorway. She looked Lucien over, wondering why he was seeing her son home.

Lucien removed his hat and introduced himself. "Doctor Lucien Blake, and this is my son, Jack. We met Tony outside the cricket grounds after he'd had a bit of bother."

She addressed Tony. "Those same boys again?"

He nodded miserably.

"Tony joined us at the match as guests of Mister Joe Turner, who gave both boys some gifts," Lucien continued.

"And you wanted to be sure Tony made it home without being attacked," said the woman.

"Something like that, yes. And now that he's safely home we'll take our leave."

"Thank you, Doctor. That was very kind of you."

"No trouble at all. Jack, we have to head for our train. Tony, it was a pleasure meeting you."

Not quite sure how to say goodbye to his new friend, Jack thrust out a hand, which Tony shook.

"Thanks. I had a swell time today," said Tony.

Lucien noted the street name and number, in case Jack wanted to write to his new friend, and they left, with a few backward waves from Jack.

Together they made the decision to eat dinner on the train rather than trying to rush through a meal at one of the overcrowded pubs nearby. Jack still seemed to be in a state of awe about the whole experience of seeing the match, meeting one of his heroes and being gifted with the team items.

As they sat on a bench at the station, waiting for the train, Lucien said, "One of the constables at the police station is responsible for you getting to meet Joe Turner. He's a friend of Mister Turner, and when I mentioned to him that we were coming to the match, Constable Hobart called Mister Turner to ask if he'd meet with you. It might be nice if you thanked the constable. What do you think?"

Jack hesitated, apprehensive about the police uniform, Lucien thought. This might be a way to work past those feelings of Jack's. Finally the boy nodded. "It was kind of him to do that."

"Yes, it was. What do you say I take you down to the station with me after school tomorrow. You can thank Constable Hobart and see one of the places where I work. Kill two birds with one stone, eh?"

"All right. I'd like to see where you work anyway, Dad," said Jack.

"Then I'll pick you up from school. And here comes our train now."

They climbed aboard, with Jack now looking like an experienced veteran of train travel. He stowed his Big V sack and slid into the window seat, anxious to be underway. Lucien suppressed a smile, reflecting on how far the boy had come in a few short months. This was no longer the same lad who knew nothing of ice cream or sports cars. One of the few traces that remained was the way he was always ready to eat.

"Can we go to the dining car soon?" he asked Lucien.

"Not yet, I'm afraid. It won't open until a while after we start moving. I'm quite sure they'll make an announcement when they're ready to begin serving."

"All right, I can wait." He looked up at Lucien. "I'm so glad you brought me here today, Dad. It's been the best day ever!"

"I'm happy that you enjoyed yourself. And just remember, in future if you think I'm not paying enough attention to you, or your brother, or your sister, just remind me. Sometimes I get too distracted by whatever else is going on, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you. Agreed?"

"Agreed," said Jack, nodding and holding out his hand for Lucien to shake.

As soon as the conductor announced that the dining car was open, Jack stood up and looked expectantly at Lucien. Suppressing a smile at his eagerness, Lucien led the way.

The menu on offer was basic fare, but still much of it was unfamiliar to Jack. Lucien answered his questions about the food as quietly as possible so as not to embarrass the lad. They both decided to stick with sandwiches and tea as the safest bets.

While they ate, Jack chattered away, basically recounting the entire match, especially the ending. Lucien was feeling the effects of lack of sleep, sorely wishing he could close his eyes for a few minutes, but Jack's enthusiasm was infectious, and Lucien could hardly begrudge him that. He was quite happy that his soon-to-be son had enjoyed their day together.

After finishing the meal, they bought a packet of biscuits to take back to their seats. Jack led the way, confident now that he knew his way around. They entered their own car, and Lucien had turned to hold the door for the couple behind them when he heard Jack shout, "Hey, what are you doing?"

He left Lucien's side and ran toward their seats before Lucien could even turn his head to see what had upset him.

A railway employee, the same one who had attempted to get Jack to ignore Lucien's instructions on the train going to Melbourne, was at their seats and rummaging through Jack's Big V items.

Jack approached the man indignantly, hands on his hips. "My dad works for the police," he announced. "We'll have you arrested for stealing!"

Lucien rushed forward to protect Jack, resting his hands on the boy's shoulders as they both faced down the other man. "What's going on, eh?" he asked, keeping his voice reasonable.

The man was clearly flustered. "I, um, I just wanted to make sure, uh, that these items hadn't, uh, been left behind by someone."

"Oh? Don't you usually check for that before the train leaves the station?"

"Yes, usually but, well, I didn't, I mean..."

"You weren't trying to see if there was anything worth taking?" Lucien suggested mildly.

"No, really. I wasn't. You're with the police?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"I'm sorry, sir. Really I am. I was just looking. My son is a huge supporter of the Big V. I didn't really mean to steal anything, honest." The man was sweating now.

Jack continued to stare at him defiantly, but Lucien decided to give the man a break. No harm had been done after all. "My son is a huge supporter as well. Jack, what do you say we let it drop just this once?"

He glared at the man for a few moments then looked up at Lucien, who nodded very subtly. "Just this once," he said finally. He reached for his sack of items and the man quickly handed it over.

He apologized once again and hurried away as he quickly as he could.

Lucien rested a hand on Jack's shoulder. "It's never a bad thing to give someone a second chance, show some kindness when you can."

They both took their seats and Lucien could see that Jack was thinking over what he had said. He left the youngster to his rumination, certain Jack would eventually speak about the matter, and indeed he did.

"Dad, do you think if everybody was kinder to everybody else maybe we wouldn't have any more wars?"

Inwardly Lucien sighed. The boy was too young to know the truth about the geopolitical conflicts, power dynamics and economic considerations that drove most wars. But perhaps his suggestion could be put into a context he would understand.

"Do you remember in the camps there were some guards who were quite decent and others who were not so nice?"

"I didn't like any of them, especially the one who hit me," Jack said firmly.

"Indeed. He was one of the worst. He never showed anyone kindness, did he? On the other hand, there was the one that brought me food and water when I was in the punishment cell. He probably saved my life. So even in a war it's possible to show kindness. He couldn't prevent the war or make it end, but he did what he could in his own way to make it better. I think you'll find in most situations, a little kindness will do that, make things a bit better."

Jack nodded to acknowledge what Lucien had said, but he remained quiet, thinking it over. Lucien hoped he was taking it in. As impetuous as Jack tended to be, this lesson might make a great deal of difference in how he approached the rest of his life. If he took anything away from their day together, Lucien hoped it was this one thing.

* * *

Jean thought perhaps the film _The Yearling _might not have been the best choice after all, especially for Li and Christopher. While well made and certainly well intentioned as a family feature, its depiction of death might be educational for many children, but not for those who had already seen too much of the real thing in their young lives.

All five children were rather somber as they left the cinema. Jean figured it was better to get them talking about what they had watched. "What did you think?" she asked the group.

"I thought it was good, but very sad," said Violet.

Christopher nodded in agreement,

"That boy's mother was mean," said Danny.

"I thought she was sad and that's why she acted that way," Li contributed. "What do you think, Mummy?"

"I agree, she was very sad," said Jean, marveling at the insight and compassion Li showed by understanding that the woman's losses made her behave harshly.

"The kid should have taken his fawn and run away to live in the woods. That would've showed her," said Amy.

"Oh?" said Jean. "And what about his father? Don't you think he would miss his son, too? Running away wouldn't really solve anything, would it?"

"Certainly not!" Mary said firmly, glaring at her daughter.

Even at such a young age, Amy was showing signs of being a bit of a rebel, Jean noted. She thought Mary was going to have her hands full with that one. She was thankful that Jack, who had shown similar tendencies in the past, seemed to be settling down under Lucien's influence, just as Lucien himself was becoming more settled with his family surrounding him.

Before Mary could get too wound up about her rebellious daughter, Jean tried to defuse the situation. "Where shall we go to dinner?" she asked brightly.

Mary looked startled. "Jean, I'm not sure we can..."

"Lucien felt bad that he couldn't attend our outing today," Jean interrupted. "He insisted on treating us all."

"All of us?" asked Mary, as though she couldn't understand such generosity. Clearly she didn't yet know Lucien very well.

"Yes, of course, all of us," Jean said chuckling. "Now, where would you like to eat?"

Li grinned. "If Jack was here he'd say we should go to the ice cream parlour."

Jean and Christopher laughed

"He would, wouldn't he?" Jean said. "But since I'm sure he's having the time of his life with Lucien, we can decide without him this once."

"Maybe we could try the new place by the telegraph office," Christopher suggested. "Some of the boys at school were saying they have hamburgers and French fries and milkshakes."

"That sounds like fun. What do you think, Mary?"

Mary shrugged. "If that's what you want."

Inwardly Jean sighed. Mary never had been one to make decisions on her own if there was any possible way to avoid it. Jean often wondered how she'd managed to make it through the war years and keep her children safe all that time.

"Then that's where we'll go," said Jean, taking Li's hand and leading the way.

At the restaurant, the children occupied one booth while Jean and Mary took the adjacent one. Jean noted that Christopher maneuvered it so that he and Violet sat on one side of the table with the smaller children opposite. He had a tiny smile on his face as he stole sideways glances at her. Jean couldn't help but smile herself. If what Christopher felt for Violet was even a tiny fraction of what she felt for Lucien then she could understand his happiness at sitting beside the girl.

"How are preparations for the wedding going?" Mary asked her as they waited for their food to arrive.

"Quite well," said Jean. "We've reserved a private room at the Colonists Club for the reception. Invitations are at the printer now and will be going out this week. My dress is already finished, and so is Li's. I'm hoping we can find time this week for me to take your final measurements so I can finish yours."

"We could always do it after we're done here," Mary suggested. "You know, I've always envied your skill with a needle. And your flair for fashion. You're so well turned out all the time. It's no wonder young Doctor Blake fell for you."

"He's about to become your brother-in-law. Don't you think it's about time you started calling him Lucien? And I was hardly well turned out when we first fell in love. My clothes were in tatters, and I hadn't even thought about makeup for months when we met."

Mary leaned closer. "He's very handsome, your Lucien. What's he like?"

Jean frowned in confusion. "What's he like?"

Mary leaned even closer so the children couldn't hear. "In bed, what's he like? I've heard that doctors are supposed to know a lot about a woman's body. Is it true?"

Jean found herself blushing. She'd heard rumours, gossip whispered about her and Lucien, about their living together, but she never thought her own sister believed such things.

"I suppose I'll find out after we're married," she said stiffly.

"You mean you haven't..."

"No, we haven't," Jean replied. "We've kissed, of course, but he's always been a perfect gentleman. Not to mention we have three children and his father in the house with us."

"Well, yes, I suppose it wouldn't do, would it?"

"No, it most certainly would not." Jean's firm tone left no doubt that she considered the matter closed. She was relieved that the waitress appeared then with their food.

Talk of the wedding, though, reminded her that she still hadn't found a way to ask the senior Doctor Blake if he would be willing to walk her down the aisle. Lucien had assured her his father would be flattered to be asked, but Jean retained enough of her small town sensibilities to worry that she was being presumptuous, getting above her station by asking such a respected member of the community to essentially stand in for her father.

She had been trying to find a way to phrase the request so that the doctor could decline gracefully if the idea made him uncomfortable, but so far she hadn't thought of anything. Wanting to put her mind at ease, Lucien had offered to broach it for her, but Jean had insisted it was her place to do it. She knew very well that if Lucien asked and his father demurred, the two of them might very well exchange angry words, and that was the last thing she wanted.

Firmly, she told herself she wouldn't put it off any longer, she'd address the matter with Doctor Blake that very evening. After all, if he agreed, he would need to go to Melbourne next weekend with Lucien and the boys to be fitted for his suit. Yes, definitely that evening.

With that decided, she returned her attention to enjoying dinner with her sister and the children.

* * *

She had just collected the final measurements for Mary's dress, and the children were saying their goodbyes when Doctor Blake walked in the door after a day spent at the Colonists Club.

"Mary, my dear, how are you?" he asked, a warmth to his voice. "Lovely to see you, as always."

"Hello, Doctor, I'm afraid we were just on our way out. We've had a very nice day with Jean and the children. And you, Doctor?"

"I'm afraid it's just been a lazy day for me, reading the newspaper and chatting with friends," he replied.

"You work hard all week, you deserve a lazy day on the weekend," Jean assured him.

"I don't work nearly as hard as you, keeping us all organized and in order," he said. "Mary, I won't keep you. Have a good evening, all of you."

When they were gone, Thomas made to move to his favourite easy chair to settle in for the evening, but Jean cleared her throat, which made him pause. "Was there something you wanted?" he asked, not unkindly.

"Just a moment of your time, if I may."

"Certainly, my dear. What can I do for you?"

And Jean realized he had never been anything but kind to her, from the day he met the ship returning them to Australia after their hellish years in the camp to this very moment. If he did not feel comfortable agreeing to her request, he would surely let her know gently. There was really nothing to fear, was there?

She took a deep breath, before beginning. "Doctor, I was wondering if I could ask a very big favour of you. I'll understand if you refuse."

"Dear Jean, if it's within my power, I will do it for you," he assured her.

"It's just that, well, you know that we lost my father not long after my wedding to Christopher. I was hoping, that if isn't too much trouble, you'd consider walking me down the aisle this time."

He reached out to clasp her hands. "Too much trouble? On the contrary, it would be my great honour. I owe you so much, my dear. Not only have you made this lonely house into a home once more, but you've given me back my son after all this time. Nothing would make me happier than to be a part of the wedding that will make you and your two wonderful sons officially members of my family. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

Jean beamed at him. She should have known he would make it as easy as possible for her. What had she been so worried about?

With this final piece settled, she could look forward to the big day with unreserved anticipation.


	34. Chapter 34

_Author's Note: I'm deeply sorry for the long delay. This chapter was supposed to show Jack's visit to the police station with Lucien, but due to recent events in the U.S. regarding the police, and seeing too many videos of brutal misconduct, I found I couldn't bring myself to write about Lucien extolling their virtues to Jack. I had to find a method to present the necessary information in another way._

* * *

Jean and Lucien met at the children's school the following afternoon. Lucien would take the boys, dropping Christopher off at his flute teacher's office and then taking Jack with him to the police station. After cautioning Jack to be on his best behaviour so he didn't embarrass Lucien, Jean took the girls with her to the hospital, where Violet would spend some time with her father, while Jean and Li were visiting with Doctor Alice Harvey.

The sister in charge of Doug Ashby's floor was an old schoolmate of Jean's, Constance Allen. "We don't usually allow children of Violet's age to visit patients, but the Chief Superintendent was very insistent, and young Doctor Blake agreed with him," she explained.

Jean smiled. "Young Doctor Blake is very persuasive, isn't he?"

"You know him?" asked Constance.

"Quite well, as a matter of fact. We're going to be married in two weeks," said Jean.

"Really? Well, congratulations are in order. You're a lucky woman."

"Yes, I know. Now, is it all right if Violet goes in to see her father?"

Constance nodded. "Go right ahead, Violet."

Jean leaned down to give the girl a hug. "Take your time," she told the girl. "Li and I will be visiting a friend. Please give your father my regards. We'll meet you right here afterwards, all right?"

"Yes, Mrs. Beazley. Thank you."

Li waved to her friend as Violet opened the door to her father's room.

"Shall we go find Doctor Harvey?" Jean said.

Li nodded eagerly and took Jean's hand as they went downstairs. When they reached the door with the 'Morgue' sign hanging on it, Jean said, "Sweetheart, wait here just a minute while I make sure Doctor Harvey is available to talk with us."

Jean really wanted to be sure there were no bodies in view. Li really didn't need to see that. She poked her head around the door. "Doctor Harvey? Alice, are you ready for us?"

She was relieved to see the examination table empty, and Alice poring over a microscope instead of a corpse.

"Hello, Jean. Please, come in," said Alice, looking up with a smile.

"I brought someone with me," said Jean, motioning for Li to come in.

"Hello, Doctor Harvey," Li said softly.

"Hello, Li. I have something under the microscope that might interest you," said Alice. She showed the girl how to adjust the focus and how to change the slides so that Li could look at the different blood samples while Jean and Alice chatted.

Jean got right to the point that had brought her there. "You may have heard that Lucien and I are getting married a week from Saturday."

"Yes, I knew you were getting married soon," said Alice. "Lucien talks about it constantly."

Jean couldn't prevent the smile that stole over her face at that revelation. "Yes, well, you hadn't arrived in town yet when we sent out invitations, but Lucien and I would very much like it if you would join us for the big day."

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking of me," Alice admitted.

"We're just inviting you to the wedding."

"Oh. Lucien said you were going to be married in a church. I'm not a Catholic. I don't really practice any faith."

Jean found the doctor's social awkwardness endearing. "The actual ceremony will be in a church, yes, but afterwards there will be the reception at the Colonists Club, a celebration of the event with our friends, which includes you, of course."

Li spoke up. "Doctor Harvey, I've never been to a wedding either, but Daddy says it will be like a big party."

"Well, I suppose I can do that," said Alice. "If I need help, can I depend on you, Li?"

"Yes, Doctor," Li promised.

Jean reached into her handbag and handed Alice one of the invitations. "This has all the details. Really, you just need to show up and have a good time."

"I suppose I'll see you there. Thank you for inviting me, Jean."

"I'm sorry it's at the last minute, but Lucien and I both want you to help us celebrate."

Alice looked proud that she apparently had made friends in this new place.

"Now, young lady," Jean said to Li, "we need to get upstairs before Violet finishes her visit with her father."

"Ah, yes, Lucien mentioned that the chief superintendent's daughter was staying with you while he's recovering," said Alice.

"She's a friend of Li's. We couldn't very well leave her to fend for herself, could we?"

"Doctor Harvey, thank you for letting me use your microscope," said Li.

"You're welcome any time."

_Any time that she won't be exposed to dead bodies_, Jean thought to herself.

* * *

Jean was happy to see that Violet's visit with her father had done much good for the girl's peace of mind. (As a parent herself, she suspected it had also done quite a bit for Violet's father as well.). By the time they reached home, Violet and Li were both giggling over something at school.

They had just gone through the door when Lucien's car pulled up. He went inside just long enough to drop off Jack and be sure Jean was home so the boy wasn't alone in the house.

"Got to run," he told Jean, with a quick kiss to her cheek. "Matthew wants my help with a suspect he's questioning. I should be home for dinner. Goodbye, all you beautiful ladies."

Jean waved him out the door, then greeted her son. "Sweetheart, how was the police station? Not as scary as you thought?"

"It was great," Jack enthused. "Constable Hobart is a nice man. He's not scary at all."

"And what about all the others? Were any of them scary?"

"Not really," Jack said slowly. "I think it's like what Dad told me, there are good men in uniforms and bad men in uniforms. It isn't the uniforms that are good or bad, it's who wears them."

"I think Dad is a smart man, don't you?" Jean said, hugging her son.

Jack nodded. He leaned into her hug, but then pulled back and spoke in a whisper. "Mum, Violet's father wasn't there, but I think he's a little bit scary."

Jean suppressed a laugh and also spoke in whispers. "Do you know what? Sometimes _I _think he's a little bit scary, too."

* * *

In fact, Lucien never made it home for dinner. The children had just gone to bed when he finally returned, looking and feeling worse for wear. A kiss from Jean made him feel a bit better, as it always did.

"The children went up a few minutes ago," she told him as she rubbed a hand along his cheek.

"I'll just go say good night," he said.

"I'll warm up some dinner while you do," she said.

"Thank you, Jean."

He knew seeing the children would cheer him up, but the trudge up the stairs seemed to take his last remaining ounce of energy. At the top, he could see a sliver of light peeking out from under Christopher's door and figured he was still reading, so went to the younger children first, beginning with Li.

She sat up when Lucien opened the door. "Daddy?"

"Sshh, I just wanted to say good night," he told her. "Did you have a good day, princess?"

"Daddy, Doctor Harvey let me look at blood samples in her microscope!"

"Did she? You enjoyed that?"

"Yes, it was very interesting."

"Well, then, we'll have to see about getting you a simple microscope of your own. That way you can look at all manner of specimens whenever you'd like."

"Yes, please."

"But for now, sleep, I think. Good night, my darling girl."

"Good night, Daddy."

He kissed her forehead, then tucked the covers more closely around her.

Closing her door behind him, he went across the hall to Jack's room. The boy was lying on his back with his hands clasped behind his head when Lucien entered.

"Not ready to sleep just yet?" said Lucien.

"Hi, Dad. I was just thinking about the police station. It was really neat."

"Neat, eh?"

Jack nodded. "It must be fun to work there."

"Not always fun, but usually interesting," Lucien told him, reflecting to himself that the evening had hardly been fun.

"I like Constable Hobart, and not just because he got us the good seats at the football game," said Jack. "He said I can visit him at the station any time."

Lucien thought Doug Ashby might have something to say about that, but only told Jack, "Be sure to check with your mother before you get any ideas about that, won't you? Good night, son."

"Good night, Dad."

On to see Christopher. Lucien rapped lightly on his door and waited for the boy's response before entering.

"I'm sorry I missed your practice tonight. I'm afraid it couldn't be helped," he apologized.

"It's all right. I understand about your work," Christopher told him.

"Nevertheless, your recital is only two days away, so you don't have much time left to practice."

"I think I have it down now," Christopher insisted. "I played it all the way through for Professor Copeland today, and he was satisfied, so I think if I just play it through a few more times before the recital I should be fine."

He wasn't bragging, Lucien knew. Christopher never boasted about anything. But his mastery of music had given him a new confidence in himself that was well-founded and healthy. "Well, then, if there's anything else I can do to help, you know you need only ask," he told the boy.

"Thank you," said Christopher. "Just be sure you're there in the audience if you can."

"Nothing could keep me away," said Lucien. "Don't stay up too late. Good night."

"Good night, Lucien."

He closed the door and started back downstairs. He wasn't altogether surprised that just exchanging a few words with the children had brightened his evening considerably.

And of course no day could stay very dark with lovely Jean in it. When he reached the kitchen, he kissed her again, holding her close just a moment longer than usual.

"Are you all right, Lucien?" she asked, keeping her hands around his biceps as she looked up into his face.

"I am now," he told her.

"What happened at the station? Why did Matthew want you to sit in?"

He sighed. "Oh, Jean, it's all just so sad."

She placed his warmed plate of dinner on the table and urged him to eat while he explained.

"I don't suppose you know the Armstrong family?"

"Nathan and Martha? They were friends of my grandparents. My mother used to help Mrs. Armstrong with spring cleaning." Jean frowned. "I heard Martha passed away recently. She wasn't murdered, was she?"

"It depends on your definition of murder. It seems Mrs. Armstrong was suffering from lung cancer, and I do mean suffering. Mr. Armstrong, well, he eased her suffering, shall we say."

Jean gasped. "He helped her die?"

"Apparently he uncapped the bottle of her pain medication and put it where she could easily reach it, along with a big glass of water. She never woke up."

"The poor man," said Jean. "What a terrible situation for him. The police are involved?"

"Matthew told me Doug Ashby is insisting he be held on charges for assisting her."

"Oh, Lucien, you're right. It _is _so sad."

"And he won't even try to defend himself. They really couldn't prove anything if he didn't admit to it." He just shook his head.

Jean sat down beside him in silent commiseration.

He ate in silence for a few minutes, then tried to shake off his mood. "What about your day? Li tells me Alice Harvey let her look through her telescope. At the morgue?"

"Yes, but I made sure she wasn't exposed to any dead bodies," Jean assured him.

"Yes, well, we both know that with Li's curiosity it's only a matter of time before she'll be looking at corpses too."

"I hope not," Jean said shortly. "And speaking of the police, Jack certainly changed his tune about uniforms, at least where the police are concerned. He couldn't seem to stop talking about his new friend, Constable Hobart."

Lucien smiled. "Yes, they seemed to hit it off right away. I had an idea they might. They're both rather impulsive."

"I've heard that about Bill Hobart," Jean said, frowning. "Is it a good idea for Jack to be around him very much?"

"I think they could be good for each other. Bill is great around children. I think having Jack looking up to him will put him on his best behaviour. And Jack, well, having someone to look up to is never a bad thing."

"He already has someone he looks up to. You're his hero, Lucien," said Jean. "You should have heard him when you were still away looking for Li. He asked about you constantly."

Lucien was genuinely touched. He had to clear his throat before he could speak again. "Er, would you prefer I discourage him from bonding with Bill?"

"Not if you think the constable will be a good influence on him. I trust your judgment in the matter."

"Thank you, Jean. I'll try to be worthy of your trust."

"I know you will. Oh, I almost forgot. A letter came for you. From the Army, no less."

"Really?" He hoped they weren't trying to entice him back into service.

Jean stood up to get it for him and handed him the envelope with the Army's official seal prominently displayed.

Lucien exchanged a glance with her before opening it and perusing the contents. At once it brought tears to his eyes.

"What is it?" Jean asked, clearly frightened by his reaction to what he read.

"Oh, Jean, I didn't mean to upset you. It's nothing bad. They're just informing me that my recommendation for Henry Dent to be recognised for his sacrifice has been approved. In fact, they're awarding him the Victoria Cross posthumously."

"That's wonderful, and well-deserved," said Jean. "I only met him that once, but he seemed a lovely man. He was shot trying to help someone?"

"Yes. You remember Evans, one of the men you cared for while we were being held in Selerang? His malaria returned just before I was sent out on the work detail. Henry knew he'd die without quinine, so he tried to get some for the poor man."

"And lost his life for it."

"He was maybe the closest I've ever had to a brother," Lucien admitted. "Selfless, patient, kind, and so generous. The camp would have been even more brutal without Henry's presence there. I wish you'd had the chance to know him better. The two of you would have loved each other."

"And he died just a few days before the Japanese surrender," said Jean, shaking her head. "Such a shame. Will there be a ceremony to present the medal?"

Lucien looked down at the letter and winced. "It's in Melbourne, the day after our wedding."

"You should be there," Jean told him. "He was important to you."

He repeated, "It's on the day after our wedding."

"So you said. We'll be in Melbourne anyway, won't we? Can't you rearrange the schedule so we can get a later flight out if we need to?"

"You wouldn't mind if I go to the ceremony and leave you alone on our first full day of married life?" Lucien was astounded by the generosity of his bride-to-be."

"Of course I would mind if you leave me alone," she replied. "That's why I intend to accompany you to the ceremony."

He looked at her in awe. "There is no doubt about it, I'm the luckiest man in the world, to be marrying you."

She leaned closer. "I feel very lucky myself," she purred, and they shared a long, passionate kiss.


	35. Chapter 35

After much pleading from Jack and Li, Jean and Lucien agreed that the children could attend Christopher's recital. Since that meant Violet would accompany them as well, Christopher was quite pleased with the decision, although he took pains to warn Jack to be on his best behavior. Any misconduct would reflect poorly on Christopher, himself, he cautioned, and also on his parents. Christopher knew his brother would not want to disappoint Lucien in any way.

With most of the students who were performing being much older than Christopher, the concert was a dressy affair, not quite formal, but a chance for Jean to wear a new dress she'd made, dark green silk with a fitted bodice and flared skirt. She'd intended it for her honeymoon, but she decided it wouldn't hurt to give her groom-to-be a preview of coming attractions.

She assisted Li and Violet with their dresses and their hair first and sent them downstairs before she donned her new dress, put the finishing touches on her makeup, and made sure her hair was perfect.

She knew that Lucien had been helping the boys get ready. Since Christopher and Lucien were both wearing suits, Jack had insisted he be allowed to wear one as well, even though he always complained that his tie was choking him. Christopher never had a problem with wearing a suit, but he asked Lucien for help with getting his hair to stay in place.

Just as on New Year's Eve, the entire household was assembled at the foot of the stairs when Jean appeared and started down toward them. Her eyes instinctively met Lucien's, which shone with his love for her. _Soon, _she told herself, _soon we will pledge our lives to each other before God and all the people we love._ She could hardly wait.

As she neared the bottom of the stairs, Lucien stepped forward to offer her a hand. "You are so beautiful," he said softly.

_So are you_, she thought, but she knew it would embarrass him if she said it in front of the children and his father.

Together with him, Jean herded everyone out to the car for the ride to the hall where the concert was being held. Once they reached it, they proceeded inside and were escorted to a row near the front. Since Thomas was with them, Jean and Lucien could sit together on one end while he took the other. Jean made sure that Jack was next to her on the other side, so she could keep a watchful eye on him.

When they were all settled, she finally had the opportunity to look over the programme, to see when Christopher would be performing. Her eyes went down and down until she finally spotted his name - the very last one on the list.

Lucien must have seen it at the same time. "Christopher is the youngest one, but they've put him in the final position. The professor must think very highly of him indeed."

"Is Chris the star?" Jack asked.

"Chris has always been a star," said Lucien. "It looks as though others are starting to realise it, too."

Not knowing much about classical music, despite Lucien's eagerness to explain anything she questioned, Jean had expected to be somewhat bored, but watching the young students and their enthusiasm for the music kept her much more engaged than when she listened to it on the wireless or on Doctor Blake's phonograph.

She decided she liked the pieces with distinct melodies the most. Some of the other pieces, more modern ones, she found somewhat jarring to her ears.

Jack had been surprisingly well-behaved, but he was beginning to get a bit restive. Thankfully, Christopher's performance was next at that point. "Your brother will be on in just a few minutes," Jean whispered to him as she handed him a stick of chewing gum. She watched as he tore it in half and gave the other piece to Li. li then offered it to Violet, who refused with a gentle shake of her head.

She and Lucien exchanged a smile of pride in their children. And then, she was even prouder when the professor stepped up to introduce Christopher.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our final performer is also our youngest and newest pupil. Christopher Beazley Junior began his studies with us less than six months ago, having never had formal lessons before. He's a remarkable talent already, and a natural performer. We expect great things from Mister Beazley in the future. Here he is, playing Georg Philipp Telemann's _Fantasias for Flute,_ Christopher Beazley."

The whole family applauded enthusiastically for him, with Li and Jack perhaps the loudest.

Jean had heard the practices for weeks, but they usually concentrated on individual sections. Hearing the entire piece was altogether different, and even to her untrained ear, it sounded exquisite. After a few murmurs of approval, the audience became totally silent, caught up in the masterful spell Christopher's music invoked. Jean was so proud and moved she could hardly contain it. She glanced over at Lucien, who caught her eye and nodded that he felt it too.

When Christopher finished, Lucien rose to his feet, calling "Bravo", and was soon joined by most of the rest of the audience.

The boy took a bow, and Jean could see a shy smile on his face. _Well deserved,_ she thought.

The professor was applauding along with everyone else when he returned to the microphone. "Isn't he something? Would you like to hear him play a bit more?"

While the people clapped their approval, Christopher motioned to Professor Copeland and spoke to him briefly. The professor nodded and adjusted the microphone so Christopher could speak into it.

"Thank you, you're very kind," he began. "I would like to dedicate this piece to my mother, an amazing woman, who sacrificed a great deal to keep my brother and me alive in very difficult circumstances. And to the remarkable man she will soon marry, the man who gave me a pan flute he'd made by hand and a simple lesson in how to play it. That moment introduced me to the idea of making my own music, which led me to _this _moment, playing for all of you, but especially playing for them. This is a passage from the first orchestral concert I ever heard, 'Peter and the Wolf'. For you, Mum and Lucien."

And he played the lilting melody representing the bird in Prokofiev's musical tale.

Jean watched as Li seemed particularly enthralled by the piece. Her eyes were wide as saucers, and her attention never wavered from Christopher.

When Christopher finished, once again the audience erupted in wild applause. Jean could not have been prouder of her son. She saw that Lucien was also beaming with pride.

She leaned over to speak into his ear over the loud clapping. "He really _is_ good, isn't he?"

"He really is," Lucien confirmed.

She looked over at Doctor Blake to see his impression. Clearly the older man was just as impressed by Christopher's performance.

At last the applause died down, and people began to file out, many of them still buzzing about the performance. Jean and Lucien waited until most had left before making their way up front to find Christopher.

He was standing next to Professor Copeland, and when he spotted the family coming toward him, he raised both eyebrows to ask them what they thought.

"You were... _incredible_," Jean quickly assured him.

"Magnificent," Lucien added.

"Yes, he was, indeed," said a voice from over Jean's shoulder.

She turned her head to see who had spoken. A middle-aged man with an impressive head of steel-grey hair extended a hand. "Mum and Lucien, I presume," he said

"Doctor Lucien Blake," he confirmed, shaking the man's hand. "My fiancée, Jean Beazley, my father, Doctor Thomas Blake, and our other children, Jack and Li, and their friend, Violet."

"Nice to meet you. My name is Richard Allen. I'm the director of the Melbourne Conservatorium of Music, at the University of Melbourne. In my job I hear many, many young musicians from throughout the country, and I have seldom been as impressed as I've been by what I heard tonight from young Christopher. You have a real gift, young man."

Christopher blushed and said softly, "Thank you, sir."

"I hope you'll continue to work hard on your studies with the professor here, and if you do, I can guarantee you a full scholarship to our school, if you're interested."

"Really?" said Jean. No one in her family thus far had attended university. She had hoped that with Lucien as an example her boys might be the first, but this was beyond anything she had imagined.

"With his talent, he can expect to be offered a chair at any symphony orchestra in this country, at the very least," Mister Allen insisted.

"What do you think about that, Chris?" Lucien asked him. "Would you like a career as a musician?"

"Music could be my job? I think that would be the best job in the world!"

"That's exactly the attitude I like to see," said Allen. "And I can assure you, Christopher, for people like us, it most certainly is the best job in the world."

"But you'll have to keep up with your other studies, too," Jean reminded him.

"That's right. Listen to your mother," said Allen. He pulled out a business card and handed it to Jean. "I'll stay in touch, see how he's getting on. A pleasure to meet all of you."

Jean hugged her older son. The idea that his future might already be settled was a huge comfort to her. Leave it to Christopher, who had always striven to be as little trouble as possible, to take such a weight off her mind.

* * *

The whole extended family was still buzzing about Christopher's performance and the resulting scholarship offer as they assembled for breakfast in the morning. It was the day the men (and boys) would go to the tailor in Melbourne for the final fitting on their suits for the wedding. They decided to take the roomy new car rather than the train so they could enjoy the day without having to worry about schedules and timetables.

Matthew Lawson came over early and joined them for breakfast.

"I wasn't sure the Ballarat Police could afford to have you take a day off, Matthew, with Doug still in the hospital," Thomas said.

"First day off since the boss was hurt," Matthew told him.

"It won't be a problem for you to be at the wedding next week?" Jean asked anxiously.

"I couldn't let Blake do something this momentous without being there to keep him in line," Matthew assured her.

"Barring any last minute downturn, I'm expecting Doug to be released tomorrow," Lucien told them. "Of course, it will be another week or two before he can return to work full-time, but he'll be available for consultation, at least."

Jean leaned over to Violet. "That's certainly good news, isn't it?"

"Maybe I should go home tomorrow to take care of him," said the young girl.

"I spoke with him about that," Lucien explained. "The district nurse will be there all day tomorrow, and more than likely he'll sleep most of the day. He thought it might be better if you waited a day. You could go home after school, if that's all right."

"I can take all your belongings over while you're at school," said Jean.

Lucien could tell Violet was a bit disappointed at the delay, but nonetheless she agreed to abide by her father's wishes. "And now, we'd better head out. Gentlemen?"

After kissing Jean and wishing all the three girls a lovely day, he ushered his father, Matthew, and the two boys outside and into the car for the drive to Melbourne.

Jack, who had never been a morning person, promptly fell asleep leaning against the window. Consequently, everyone else spoke in low voices and conversation was somewhat constrained. Matthew filled in Lucien and Thomas on current police cases, including that of Jock Clement, who had been transferred to Melbourne for trial, which would be held in a month or two. Lucien would need to give a deposition, just in case it began before he returned from his honeymoon.

Thomas advised he would be willing to appear as a character witness against the man if it would help to ensure he would never be free to wreak havoc on anyone else. Matthew promised to pass that along, although he was quite sure Clement would never again be a free man, even if he wasn't hanged.

Once they reached Melbourne, Christopher woke up Jack.

"I'm up, I'm up," Jack mumbled before he opened his eyes and realized he was in the car. "Oh!" he said sharply.

"Did you have a good nap? You were up rather late last night," said Lucien.

"We're there already? I guess I did have a good nap," said Jack.

"Then you're ready to face the day, eh?"

"What are we going to do, besides try on clothes?" Jack asked, making a face.

Christopher gently reminded him, "This is so you'll look smart for Mum and Lucien's wedding. You want Mum to be happy, don't you?"

"It shouldn't take long, if we all cooperate," said Lucien. "And as soon as it's over, we'll go to lunch. I thought while we're here we could invite your friend Tony to join us for lunch, if that's all right with you?"

"Yes!" said Jack, perking up considerably at that.

"Well, then, let's get to it. And maybe after lunch we can take a look at the Melbourne Conservatorium, eh, Christopher?"

The tailor was mercifully quick. No alterations were required for Thomas and Matthew's suits, which they were allowed to take with them. Both boys had grown since the initial measurements, however, necessitating that their trousers be lengthened. And Lucien's form continued to fill out after his years of near-starvation in the camp. His daily regimen of exercise meant the chest and shoulders of his coat had to be let out.

The garments were marked with the new measurements, and the tailor solemnly promised to have them delivered in plenty of time for the wedding.

With that finished, they went to pick up little Tony for lunch.

"Who is this boy, again?" asked Matthew.

"He's my friend," said Jack.

Lucien explained, "We met him at the football match. He helped us out, and we helped him out, and he and Jack became fast friends in the process."

As they drove into a somewhat seedy part of the city, Matthew raised his eyebrows questioning Lucien, who only nodded. Tony was definitely not well-to-do, which meant very little to Lucien or Jack, although Thomas frowned somewhat at the surroundings.

Lucien had contacted the boy's mother in advance, so Tony was waiting outside. Upon spotting them, he popped to his feet and waved in excitement.

As soon as Lucien stopped the car, Jack got out and the two boys ran toward each other. When they met, neither of them knew quite how to greet each other, until finally Jack stuck out his hand and Tony clasped it. They pumped the handshake several times with both boys grinning madly.

When they walked back to the car, Tony said, "Hello, Doctor Blake," but he seemed a little daunted by the others until Jack made the introductions.

"This is another Doctor Blake. He's going to be my grandfather."

Thomas beamed proudly at that.

"This is Sergeant Lawson. He's a friend of Dad's and he's a policeman, but he's nice."

Lucien nudged Matthew with his elbow, but Matthew ignored him.

"And this is my brother, Christopher. He's a really good brother. This is my friend, Tony."

Lucien knew Jean would be very pleased when he told her of Jack's excellent manners.

They proceeded to the restaurant and settled into a large booth. The enthusiasm of Jack and Tony about football soon had Christopher involved in their conversation, while Thomas looked on fondly, which left Lucien and Matthew the opportunity to chat.

"Are you getting nervous yet?" Matthew asked him quietly.

Lucien thought about it. "Not nervous about the wedding, as such," he said slowly. "There's nothing I want more than to be married to Jean."

"What then?"

"You've known me forever. You know how I am. What if I don't deserve her?"

"You don't," Matthew told him. "But none of that matters. She chose you. God knows why, but she did. And all you have to be is the best version of Lucien Blake you can, every day, forever. Hmm?"

"Yes," Lucien agreed. That's exactly what he'd been telling himself for some time now. He needed to prove himself worthy of being Jean's husband. He wasn't sure he could, but he would try his best.


	36. Chapter 36

The closer it got to the big day, the more nervous Jean became, although she couldn't really explain why. She wanted nothing more than to be married to Lucien, to be his wife and Li's mother. Likewise, she longed to have Lucien as her husband and father to her sons.

Was she worried about the honeymoon, about pleasing her new husband in the bedroom? A tiny bit, perhaps. Her only experience in that had been with Christopher, and although they'd always enjoyed themselves immensely, she believed Lucien was more experienced in such matters. Jean was willing, eager even, to experiment in any way that Lucien suggested. She strongly suspected they would be just as compatible in bed as they had proved to be in every other facet of their lives.

She supposed it was the ceremony itself that was causing her anxiety. She so wanted it to be perfect, with all her family and friends looking on. What if she tripped over the hem of her dress as she walked down the aisle? Or froze when it came time to repeat her vows? Lucien wouldn't care, she knew, he was just as anxious as she was to be married, to have this behind them and start their lives as husband and wife. But she didn't want to embarrass herself or him.

Her sister, Mary, wasn't helping the situation. If anything, Mary seemed even more nervous than Jean, probably because Mary had spent her entire life here in Ballarat, and consequently Mary wanted everything to be perfect to give the town gossips no further ammunition. Jean was well aware of what was being said about her, that somehow she had tricked Lucien into this marriage. There was more than a bit of speculation that she must be pregnant with his child. After initially feeling somewhat indignant about it, Jean had finally decided to ignore all the innuendo. She and Lucien and the rest of their little family knew the truth, and that was what mattered.

Jean had finished the three dresses for the wedding, Mary's, Li's and her own, and she was pleased with how they turned out. The suits for the men (and boys) had been delivered and were hanging in their respective closets. The flower arrangements for Sacred Heart had been placed, and those for the club were ready to be delivered. The club's kitchen had confirmed that everything required for the menu had been purchased, and the band and photographer had been hired. And Lucien had assured her that the license and the rings were in his possession. Everything was under control except the bride's nerves. She hoped the rehearsal would reassure her that the wedding itself would go smoothly.

On Friday evening they all piled into Lucien's car to go to Sacred Heart. Lucien had already packed an overnight bag as well as all he would need for the morrow, since he would be spending the night at the club to avoid seeing Jean before the ceremony. Jean watched as he put it in the boot.

"I know I'm just being superstitious," she told him. "Do you mind awfully?" She knew it was a bother for him, but she liked tradition, and God knew they'd already had more than their share of bad luck. No use tempting fate.

"My dear, I promised you a wedding exactly as you wanted. A night at the club is a small price to pay in order to give you what you want."

She leaned close to kiss his cheek and whisper, "Is it any wonder I can't wait to be married to you?"

The tips of his ears blushed red, but Lucien smiled with pleasure as he opened the car door for her. Jean reflected yet again on how lucky she was. Out of the hell that was the prison camp she and Lucien had found each other, and just as importantly, they had survived and reunited afterwards. And now they were about to begin a new stage, hopefully one that would last the rest of their lives.

It was a short ride to the church for the rehearsal, but Jean felt her anxiety begin to ratchet up even more the closer they got. By the time Lucien opened the car door to help her out, her hands were shaking. Of course he noticed.

"Jean?" he said softly, lifting a questioning eyebrow toward her.

"I'll be all right," she tried to reassure him, but her voice trembled.

Lucien turned to the others. "Please, go inside. Jean and I need a moment. We'll join you in just a minute."

When the others were gone, he led her over to the steps and they sat down together with him still holding her hands. "What's going on?"

His voice was so gentle that it nearly broke her. She loved him so very much.

"Are you having second thoughts?" he asked. "It's not too late to call it off if you are?" The look of anguish in his eyes when he said that brought her to tears.

"No, no," she was quick to assure him. "It's just..." She struggled to put it into words. "This is so important that I want everything to go perfectly."

He took a deep breath of relief and squeezed her hands. "Yes, it's important, but the part that's most important is that at the end of it, we're married. All the rest is just window dressing as long as when it's finished I belong to you and you belong to me."

And just like that, she knew he was right. None of it mattered as long as she and Lucien exchanged their vows and pledged themselves to each other. _That's _what it was all about, not whether the dresses fit perfectly or someone had a hair out of place. "You are absolutely right, and I love you very much," she told him, resting a hand along his cheek.

He gave her a quick but very tender kiss. "Now, what do you say we go inside with the others before they think we've eloped?"

She laughed. "Maybe we should have. So much easier."

* * *

Inside the church, Father Morton took Jean, Mary and Li to one side to discuss the walk up the aisle. While that was going on, Lucien addressed his father.

"Dad, can I ask a favour?"

"Of course."

"Since I won't be at the house in the morning to help them, would you mind seeing that Christopher and Jack are well turned out? They'll probably need a hand with their neckties and making certain their hair looks smart, and I don't think Jean needs to worry about that, along with everything else she has to do."

To be honest, Lucien couldn't recall a time when his father had ever helped Lucien himself with matters such as that. His mother had taught him how to do up a necktie, and he'd been quite self-sufficient about caring for his own appearance before the age of ten, but Jean's boys had spent years in the camp, where access to even the most basic hygiene was limited. Neckties and hair styling were nowhere on the list of priorities for survival.

"All right, I can do that," said Thomas, somewhat tentatively.

"I can ask Matthew to stop over and see to it if you'd prefer," said Lucien, managing not to make it sound like an accusation, but still he could see the guilt in his father's eyes.

"That won't be necessary," Thomas insisted. "They'll be my grandsons by this time tomorrow. I don't want to repeat the mistakes I made when you were a boy, son. I want those boys to know they can depend on me. As can you."

"Thank you," said Lucien, and he meant it. The past was the past. If Thomas could be a loving grandfather to Li and Jack and Christopher, as well as any children that he and Jean might have together, then all the differences and disagreements would be truly forgiven. Lucien wanted to begin his new life with Jean by wiping the slate clean, being a real family. The kind he'd wished for all those years ago when he had spent holidays alone at boarding school. And the kind he'd dreamed of in his darkest moments in that hole in Changi prison.

He could see all of that now, within his grasp. He and Jean just had to get through tomorrow, and then, well, sometimes fairy tales did come true.

Father Morton had finished speaking with the ladies, who were now waiting at the rear of the church for their cue to begin. He addressed the men.

"Lucien, Matthew, young Christopher, when the ladies are ready tomorrow, you'll get the sign to come out here before the altar." He indicated where each of them was to stand.

"Doctor Blake Senior, I assume you'll be riding to the church with Jean tomorrow, so you just wait out front until she's ready, then, of course, she'll take your arm and you'll follow several steps behind Mary down the aisle."

Thomas nodded and headed for where the ladies were waiting.

"What about me?" asked Jack, never one to be shy or risk being left out.

"Ah, yes, Jack, you'll be carrying the rings, won't you?"

Jack glanced at Lucien, who nodded, so Jack did as well.

"Well, then, you'll be leading the way, just in front of Li as everyone comes up the aisle," said Father Morton.

"No, I should be behind Li," Jack said firmly.

Father Morton was about to insist otherwise, so Lucien intervened. "Why do you need to be behind Li?" he asked the boy gently.

"Because she's scared she'll make a mistake. I need to be able to see her and make sure she's all right. I told her I would."

Lucien felt nothing but pride and love for this child about to become his son. He put a hand on Jack's shoulder and looked up at the priest. "Father, if that's what the two of them have agreed, I think that's what they should do."

The man was obviously accustomed to getting his own way, but he must have been able to see the determination in Lucien's steely blue stare. He shrugged. "It's your wedding," he said.

"Yes, it is," said Lucien. "Thank you, Father."

"Well, then, let's all take our places."

When everyone was where they should be, Father Morton called out, "Mrs. Hitchcock will start playing the music now. . . And now we begin down the aisle."

Lucien turned to face the back, feeling Matthew and Christopher turn with him.

Li came first, looking nervous as she carried the empty basket that would be filled with fresh flowers on the morrow. She walked much too quickly, obviously wanting her part in the proceedings to be over.

When Lucien saw Father Morton about to object to her pace, again he stepped in to prevent it. "I'll just have a quick word with her," he said.

Li's eyes were wide with apprehension as Lucien approached her, so he took her hand and brought her over into one of the pews. "My little princess," he said, looking into her eyes. The use of her old nickname brought a tentative smile. "You know what this wedding is all about, don't you?"

"So we'll all be one family, you and Mummy and me and Jack and Christopher."

"And Grandfather, that's right, and that's all that matters. There's no reason to be nervous or afraid. And Jack will be walking right behind you to make sure nothing happens, all right?"

"All right, Daddy."

"Good. Now, you know Mummy is always beautiful, but tomorrow she's going to be even more beautiful in her wedding dress, so you need to walk very slowly in front of her and give everyone in the church a chance to see just how beautiful she is. You can do that for Mummy, can't you?"

She nodded solemnly.

He kissed the top of head and then led her back out to try it again.

The second time was perfect. Father Morton was a bit more patient as he explained the process once they were at the altar. Finally he said, "And then I pronounce you man and wife."

"And then," said Lucien, and he reached for Jean to kiss her soundly in front of everyone. Matthew laughed first and everyone else joined him.

Jean's eyes were twinkling when Lucien pulled back to look at her.

He couldn't help smiling in satisfaction. "Best part of the whole bl..." he caught himself before swearing in church "... blessed thing."

Jean knew what he'd been about to say and swatted his arm playfully. "I can't really argue with that."


	37. Chapter 37

It was still dark outside when Jean woke up on the morning of her wedding day. _Her wedding day! _

She knew she should try to go back to sleep. She didn't want dark circles under her eyes on this of all days. But she also knew with a great deal of certainty that she wouldn't be able to get any more sleep. She might as well get up and get the day started. With her nerves already on edge, the last thing she needed was to feel rushed as she got dressed.

As quietly as she could, she donned her dressing gown and made her way to the bathroom. Violet Ashby had given her some rose-scented bubble bath as a thank you gift, and Jean poured a liberal amount in the tub as she drew a bath.

Sinking down into the perfumed water, she thought she would stay there and relax until the water grew cold or the others woke up. She very nearly fell asleep, but the cooling water eventually forced her to get out.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but as she made her way back to the bedroom, she saw that the doors of all three children's rooms were open and the rooms empty. She suspected Christopher had taken charge and kept the younger two quiet so as not to disturb her. He was such a good boy, or young man really. As proud as she was of his musical talents, she was even more proud of the person he was, especially as a brother and son.

Glancing at the alarm clock beside her bed, she realized she'd been in the bath for nearly an hour. It was now later than she expected, but she still had plenty of time. She should fix breakfast for everyone, maybe try to eat something herself, even just tea and toast. She certainly didn't want to risk fainting before the meal at the reception.

She slipped into the new silk and lace underthings she'd purchased for this day, then pulled her dressing gown on once again. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she could hear subdued voices from the kitchen.

Thomas was there with the children, all of them already having breakfast. "Good morning, my dear," he said as she entered. "I hope you managed some sleep."

"Enough, thank you," she said. "What's all this, then?" She indicated the eggs and toast they were eating.

"We're not entirely helpless in the kitchen," said Thomas.

"We made the toast," Jack piped up, "Li and me."

It was only slightly black around the edges, Jean noted. "You did a good job. Thank you, all of you."

"It was the least we could do," said Christopher with a shrug.

"It's one less thing I have to take care of today," said Jean.

"You should try to eat something," Thomas urged as Christopher poured her a cup of tea.

"I think I'll have a piece of this toast, it looks so good," she said, noticing that Jack and Li exchanged delighted grins at her remark.

They were just finishing the meal when Mary arrived to help Jean get dressed and made up. Jean knew it was a tradition, but she actually preferred to do most of it herself.

Thomas assured her that he and the boys could handle the washing up before they got ready themselves, so Jean, Li and Mary went upstairs.

First Jean helped Mary get into her dress, then suggested perhaps Mary could help Li prepare while Jean did her own hair and makeup.

"Can I wear my hair up, Mummy?" Li begged.

Jean didn't want to deny her, but she also didn't want Li to grow up too fast. She knew if Lucien had his way, Li would stay at this age forever, and although Jean didn't want that, she also didn't want the seven-year-old to look fifteen.

She pulled the little girl close. "You know, your father likes it best when you wear your hair in a single braid down your back. Do you think, just for him, you could wear it that way today?"

She could see the look of resignation on the sweet little face, but then Li nodded. "All right, just for Daddy."

"Thank you, sweetheart," said Jean. She would ask Lucien to be sure to comment on Li's hair when he saw her.

Mary took Li to her room to get ready while Jean set to work on herself. The busier she was, the less opportunity to give in to her nerves. She willed her hands not to shake as she applied her eyeliner and mascara, and on the second try she got them just the way she wanted.

She removed the curlers that had been in her hair since the night before and began to brush it out. It had turned out perfectly, with soft waves and curls framing her face. So far everything was going as well as she could have wished. She hoped that was a good omen for the rest of the day. Her nerves eased just a bit.

She had just finished with her hair when Mary and Li returned to help her finish.

"Don't you look beautiful," Jean told them both, and they did. It was exactly the way she'd imagined when she had decided on the design for all the dresses.

"Doctor Blake wanted me to let you know he's assisting the boys and they're all just about ready," Mary told her.

"Lovely," said Jean, wondering if Lucien had a hand in that.

"Now, let's get you into your dress, and we should be just about ready, too."

It all became very real to Jean when she saw herself in the mirror wearing her wedding dress. "No backing out now," she murmured.

Li heard her. "Daddy would be very sad if that happened, Mummy," she said solemnly.

"I know, sweetheart. I was just joking, but I guess it wasn't very funny."

"Oh," said Li, looking relieved.

"I want to be married to your father just as much as he wants to be married to me," Jean assured her. "I don't think there's anything that could stop this wedding now. Shall we head downstairs and get ready to leave for the church?"

They found Matthew had just arrived. "I came to take Christopher to the church with me," he explained. "We can keep Lucien in line while we're waiting for the rest of you."

"Don't you all look handsome," Jean commented. Thomas, Matthew, Christopher, and Jack in their matching black suits looked very distinguished and sober.

"We can't hold a candle to you beautiful ladies," said Thomas, sweeping a hand toward Mary, Li, and of course Jean.

"Quite right," Matthew agreed. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we'll head off."

After they had left, Jean looked around. "What else do we need to do?" she asked.

"I think we're all set," said Mary.

"My luggage for later?" asked Jean. They would be spending the night at the Colonists Club before taking the train to Melbourne early in the morning.

"Already at the club," Thomas advised her. "I brought it over first thing this morning."

"Thank you. Yes, I think we're ready to go." She took a deep breath and looked around. The next time she walked into this house she would no longer be the housekeeper, she would be Mrs. Lucien Blake, the mistress of the house. And more importantly, she would be Lucien's wife.

Her nerves, which had briefly subsided when everything had gone so well thus far, returned full force as they all rode to the church. She picked anxiously at her bouquet, again just wanting the ceremony to be safely over.

Li, sitting beside her, must have noticed. The little girl moved closer and rested her head against Jean's shoulder. She couldn't help smiling down at her, this beautiful, clever, sensitive daughter, so much like her father, exactly the kind of daughter she'd always hoped to have. She really had much to be thankful for on this day.

They reached Sacred Heart, and all the others got out first, then Thomas helped Jean emerge from the car. As she was straightening her dress on the steps of the church, Matthew and Christopher emerged in a hurry. Matthew paused only long enough to speak briefly with Thomas, then he and Christopher rushed off.

"What's going on?" she asked Thomas.

He swallowed, obviously trying to find the words. "It seems... well... no one seems to know where Lucien is," he finally managed.

"He isn't here?" Jean's heart leapt into her throat.

* * *

_The previous evening_

Any of the people who knew Lucien Blake at university or medical school would have attested to the fact that once he became focused on something he had an uncanny ability to block out anything that might distract him. Whether he was studying for an examination or working in the laboratory, his powers of concentration reached the status of legend. There was even the tale of when a student at an adjacent lab table had managed to set an experiment on fire, with noxious fumes filling the room, and Lucien continued to work until someone literally grabbed him to drag him out.

He was getting ready for bed in his room at the club when a sudden knock on the door interrupted him. Thinking it might be Cec Drury checking to see if he needed anything further before leaving for the night, Lucien opened the door and was surprised to see young Bill Hobart instead of Cec.

"Constable, was there something you needed?" he asked.

"Sorry to bother you, Doc, but the boss wanted me to ask if you'd mind taking a quick look at a body we got called out for. It's just down the street from here."

Lucien thought quickly. Likely he wouldn't be getting much sleep anyway, and rather than tossing and turning all night, he might as well do something productive. Doug Ashby was still recuperating at home, but he'd been kind enough to grant Lucien three weeks' holiday for his honeymoon, as well as making sure Matthew wasn't rostered on for the wedding day. He felt he owed the man a favour. An hour or two to examine a body was little enough in return.

He retied his necktie, grabbed his coat, and followed the constable outside and along the few blocks to where two other members of the police were standing guard. They stepped aside for him to see the body. His stomach fell. The corpse was that of a young boy, no more than fourteen years old. His body was covered in small wounds, tiny red circles almost like a rash except that they oozed blood.

"What happened?" Lucien asked as he knelt down for a closer look.

"Store owner says he heard someone breaking into the storeroom so he went to investigate with his shotgun. Too dark to see, but he shot anyway," the sergeant explained.

Lucien shook his head. "Do we know who he is?" he asked, indicating the victim.

"Name is Dennis Freeman. Ran away from the home for boys up on West Street a few days ago."

"And he was breaking into a hardware store?" asked Lucien, puzzled.

"More than likely he was just looking for a warm place to sleep."

"That makes more sense," said Lucien. He stood up after finishing his cursory exam. "I'm going to need a full autopsy," he announced, waving the ambos over.

"Gunshot wounds did him in, didn't they?" asked the sergeant.

"Maybe, but I don't see a single wound serious enough to have killed him. I suppose it's possible it was the cumulative effect of all of them, but I'm not ready to conclude a cause of death."

"The boss won't be happy."

"Yes, well, that doesn't change the evidence I see," Lucien told him.

Two hours later, after examining every aspect of the body, he still had no idea why young Dennis had died. Blood loss had been barely moderate, and none of the pellets had penetrated deeply enough to damage internal organs. There were no visible signs of serious illness or any other injury. He decided he would need to open up the boy's body. He wondered briefly where Alice was as he set to work with his usual single-minded focus.

He had no idea of time passing as he examined each organ. Heart, lungs, liver, stomach, intestines, all seemed normal. Finally, as a last resort, he looked at the brain, and there he found it, a massive aneurysm. The shock of the shooting may have caused a spike in blood pressure that hurried the process, but the weakness in the artery would have killed the boy sooner or later in any case.

With a sigh, he closed up the body. He was just moving it back into the refrigerated cabinet when the morgue doors burst open.

"Bloody hell, Blake," said Matthew Lawson. "Do you know what time it is?"

It was only then that Lucien remembered himself and what day it was. "Jean!"

"Yes, Jean. She's at the church. Everybody's at the church, waiting on you. We brought your suit when we didn't find you at the club. Now get changed and let's go, mate."

While he got into his wedding suit, Lucien was grateful for once that his facial hair grew so slowly. At least he didn't need to shave, which would only delay him further.

As soon as he had on his shirt, trousers and socks, Matthew hustled him out to the car, with Christopher trailing behind carrying his shoes. He could finish dressing on the way to the church.

Lucien had wanted everything to be perfect for Jean on this day, and here he was going to look exactly like he'd gotten dressed in the back seat of an automobile.

Christopher's eyes were wide with worry, but nonetheless he did his best to help. "As long as you get there and get married, Mum won't mind," he tried to reassure Lucien.

And Lucien remembered how he had told Jean very much the same thing. As long as she was still at the church, hadn't left in disgust or dismay, they would be all right.

He finished tying his tie just as Matthew pulled up to Sacred Heart. "I should go to Jean and apologize," he said.

Matthew grabbed his arm. "Oh, no, you don't. You're coming with us directly to the altar so we can get this thing on the road. Let's go."

Lucien allowed himself to be dragged while he tried to straighten his clothing. Two minutes later he was standing at the altar with Matthew and Christopher, trying to compose himself before he saw Jean.

Any composure he'd managed to recover flew out the stained glass window as soon as the old pipe organ began playing to signal the bridal procession was beginning. He turned to watch, longing for a glimpse of his beautiful Jean so he could gauge her mood.

Li came first, looking dainty and beautiful with her basket of flowers. He was so proud of her. He hoped the photographer managed some good pictures of her that could be sent to her grandfather in Shanghai.

Then came Jack. He looked very somber and grownup until he spotted Lucien watching him. Then he grinned and gave a small wave. Lucien smiled back and nodded in greeting.

Next was Mary. All dressed up and in full makeup, there was a resemblance there to Jean that Lucien normally could not see.

And then, finally, came Jean. Lucien had a fleeting impression that her dress was absolutely beautiful, but his full attention was on her face, her eyes. Her immediate reaction upon meeting his gaze was to lift an eyebrow, as though asking what in hell happened, but then she smiled, and it was if the sun had come out on a rainy day. The heaviness surrounding Lucien's heart evaporated, and his whole being vibrated with joy. This wonderful creature would soon be joined with him until the end of their days. He couldn't be happier.

After its fitful start, the ceremony went smoothly. Except for the hitch in his voice when he took his vow, overcome as he was with gratitude for his about-to-be-wife, they both managed to get through it all, and then exchange the rings without fumbling. Finally, the priest pronounced the words they'd both been waiting for, and they were husband and wife, at long last.

This time when Lucien kissed her, it felt different. They were bound to each other, not only in the eyes of God and the state, but in their hearts, where it counted most.


	38. Chapter 38

When they emerged from the church Jean wasn't sure if the whole world was actually brighter or if it just seemed so, now that she was married to Lucien. The photographer was waiting to take pictures, but here in the sunshine with a chance to study her brand new husband, she noticed he seemed a bit... disheveled, for want of a better word. Not quite as well put together as he normally was, despite the gorgeous new suit.

"Can you wait just a minute," she asked the photographer. "I need to straighten up my husband." She smoothed one of Lucien's lapels by way of explanation. "We won't be long. Maybe you can start with photos of the children. Danny and Amy, you get in, too."

She led Lucien by the hand back into the now deserted church. Once they were inside she began to help him look more presentable, she unbuttoned his coat and smoothed down his shirt, tucking it more firmly into his trousers. The intimacy of the moment would have been inappropriate even yesterday, Jean thought, but now he was her husband so it was entirely appropriate.

Which reminded her... "What happened to you?" she asked. "Where were you?"

She saw his face fall. "Oh, my darling, I am so sorry." He took her hands in his. "I never intended to make you worry. They called me out to look at a body, just a boy. I couldn't abandon him without knowing how he died."

"A boy?"

He explained what had happened and what he found. Jean understood perfectly, despite the worry it had caused her. Perhaps if the victim had been an adult it might have been different, but she knew he couldn't have abandoned a child who needed his assistance, even if that child was already deceased.

"The poor boy. What a dreadful life he must have had. Maybe he'll be able to rest in peace now that you've found the truth for him," Jean said sadly. She returned to the task at hand, making sure Lucien's shirt cuffs protruded from his coat sleeves just right and then straightening the knot on his tie. She ran her hand down the length of the tie, enjoying the feel of his broad, solid chest beneath.

His eyes twinkled as they met her gaze. "My dear, unless you want the honeymoon to begin here and now, I think my tie is straight enough."

Feeling naughty, she was tempted to rest a hand against the slight bulge in his trousers that had suddenly appeared, but at this rate they'd never finish with the photographer and get on to the reception at the club.

"Hold that thought until later," she told him, staring into his eyes and running a hand along his cheek.

"It's very difficult not to keep holding that thought," he growled. "You are so beautiful."

"So are you," she assured him. "Now, let's go back out there and get this done."

She tried to be patient with the photographer, knowing that if his pictures turned out well the whole family would enjoy them for many years to come. Soon enough, though, she could see the younger children becoming restive, and Lucien was practically gritting his teeth in an effort to refrain from losing his temper, for her, she knew.

"Anything more that you need you can take at the reception," she finally told the man. "We have a party to get to."

"Yes, we do," Lucien agreed, leading the way to the waiting cars. Jean allowed Lucien to help her into the car, mindful of her dress. He slipped in beside her, and they held hands and smiled at each all the way to the club. She thought her life was just about perfect.

Cec must have left the church immediately after the ceremony. He greeted them as they entered. "Doctor and Mrs. Blake, congratulations to you."

"Thank you, my dear friend," said Lucien, shaking his hand. Jean just beamed at him, loving her new title.

Cec led them to the private room that had been reserved for them. It was beautifully decorated, just as Jean had imagined it.

Lucien must have noticed her appraisal of the room. "Good?" he asked.

"Perfect," she confirmed.

"Then let's find our places, get the speeches over with, and have some fun, shall we?"

One of the things Jean had learned about Lucien was that he was at heart an introvert. He was most comfortable within a small enclave of the people he loved. When he was in a social situation, he tended to adopt his bedside manner to interact as necessary, but she could tell how little he usually enjoyed it. Now, watching him, she was glad they had kept the guest list small. He was greeting everyone with genuine warmth, and he looked completely happy.

He showed it even more when he got up to speak. "First, I want to thank all of you for coming here to share our happiness today. It means the world to Jean and me that we have the people we care most about surrounding us, so thank you. A huge debt of gratitude to my two best men, Matthew and Christopher, without whom today might have turned into a disaster." He paused to nod in their direction. "Also to the rest of our family, Mary, Dad, Jack, and Li, for their part in making our wedding special.

"And of course, to my beautiful Jean, the woman who saved my life, literally, and who made it worth living. She brings me joy every single day, and I'm the luckiest man in the world to have her as my wife. My only hope is to prove myself worthy of her love and to make her as happy as she's made me." He held up his glass of champagne. "To my lovely wife, to Jean."

She ducked her head in embarrassment, but at the same time she thought, _That ought to put paid to the notion that I somehow tricked or coerced him into marrying me. Especially when they see the love shining in his eyes._

And then it was time for their first dance. Jean glided into Lucien's arms, and it felt like going home. "We need to dance together more often," she said softly, smiling up at him.

"It would be my pleasure, whenever you'd like, my dear," he replied.

She slid her left hand from his shoulder up to his neck and then to his cheek. "Despite the, er, the delay in getting started, this day has been everything I could have wished. Thank you, Lucien."

"My absolute pleasure," he told her, with a quick kiss to her forehead. He nodded his head toward the doorway. "Look who just arrived."

Jean looked to the doorway to see Stephen Lucas with a blond woman who must be his wife. "We should go greet them," she said. "You know they'll feel a bit awkward here, especially with your father in attendance."

Hand in hand they walked over to the Lucases, who indeed looked unsure whether they should be here.

"Stephen, good to see you. Thank you for coming," said Lucien as the two men shook hands.

"Congratulations, Lucien and Jean. This is my wife, Anne. My cousin Lucien and his bride Jean."

"Lovely to meet you, Anne," said Jean, figuring she could now address the woman by her first name, since their husbands were cousins.

"How do you do," said Anne. Jean thought she looked a bit overwhelmed.

"I understand you have a daughter," she said, hoping talk of the child might put Anne at ease.

"That's right, Catherine. Do you have children?"

Jean smiled at Lucien. "Between us we have three, Christopher, Jack and Li."

"They must keep you very busy," said Anne.

Jean suspected the Lucases had a nanny and one or more maids to help with their daughter, but she held her tongue about that.

"Jean's a marvel," Lucien said. "Not only looks after the children, Dad and me, but she also keeps Dad's practice running smoothly."

"She must be a marvel, then," Stephen agreed.

Jean saw Lucien glance toward his father, and she nudged him softly. He took her cue. "Speaking of Dad, why don't you let me introduce you to him."

"Are you sure?" asked Stephen. "We don't want to cause a scene if he becomes upset."

"He won't. Not here," Lucien assured them.

Jean was equally certain. She and Lucien had decided this might be the best place to begin putting paid to the family feud. "Yes, please come and meet him," she urged.

When both Stephen and Anne gave somewhat tentative nods, she tucked her hand in Lucien's elbow and together they led the way to the table where Doctor Blake (_Thomas_, she reminded herself) was sitting with the still-recovering Doug Ashby. They stood up as the foursome approached.

Lucien made the introductions, and after he and Jean were quite sure no unpleasantries would be exchanged, left them to get acquainted. As Jean had expected, Thomas was a perfect gentleman. He would do nothing to spoil this day.

"Thank you, Lucien," Jean said as they walked back onto the dance floor. "Our children deserve to have a large, loving family around them."

"You're quite right, as usual," said Lucien. "I always thought you were smarter than me, most especially as regards family."

Jean chose not to hear that comment as patronizing because she knew in his heart Lucien actually thought that of her.

"Now, how about one more dance, and then we dance with our children?" he suggested.

"What a lovely idea. Be sure to tell Li how much you like her hair the way she's wearing it. We had a tiny bit of a struggle over that."

"Oh?"

"Yes, she wanted to wear it up," Jean explained. "I thought that style was too old for her."

"Quite right. And with that said, now I like the way she's wearing it even more," said Lucien.

LLL

Lucien kissed Jean's hand and the two of them walked to the children's table where their three, Mary's two and Violet Ashby were seated, watching the adults and giggling.

Lucien tapped Li gently on the shoulder to get her attention. "Madame, may I have this dance?"

"Daddy, you're too tall to dance with me," she laughed.

"Ah, but we used to dance all the time when you were much smaller," Lucien insisted, remembering how he would waltz her around their home in Singapore so long ago.

"Really? How did we do that?" she asked.

"Like this," said Lucien, lifting her up into his arms and waltzing his way back to the dance floor as the other children watched with amusement. A moment later he saw Jean and Christopher join them out on the floor.

"I don't suppose you remember now. You were very young," Lucien told his daughter.

"I think I do remember, Daddy," she said, as if amazed herself. "Was the song 'Waltzing Matilda' the one we danced to?"

His heart filled with love and his eyes with tears. "That's right," he said, and he kissed her cheek, very thankful that they'd been reunited after the war split them apart. "I'm so happy to have you back with me, my dear girl. You look lovely today, your dress and your beautiful long hair."

"I wanted to look good today for you and Mummy."

"You look perfect. I'm so proud of you."

Li ducked her head, embarrassed at his lavish praise, but Lucien meant every word of it. As much as he loved Jean and the boys, there would have been a large hole in his heart if they didn't have Li with them as well.

"It's true," he told her, lifting up her chin so he could see her eyes. "Mummy and I think we're very lucky to have you in our family, princess."

Li looked to find Jean, who was now dancing with Jack, while Christopher had paired up with Violet. "Look at Jack dancing," Li said happily.

"Do you think you could do me a favour?" Lucien asked Li. "Could you dance with Jack so I can dance with Mummy again?"

Li nodded. "You _should _dance with Mummy," she told him soberly. "It's _your _wedding."

"Thank you, dear girl," he said, setting her down on the floor.

She paused to throw her arms around his waist in a hug before hurrying over to Jack and Jean.

When Jean stared to walk towards him once more, she took his breath away all over again. "You are so beautiful," he told her as he reached out a hand to clasp hers.

She beamed at him. "You certainly make me feel that way."

"As you should. I'm the envy of every man in this room." He took her into his arms and they began to dance once more.

She looked around to see what he was seeing. "Oh, look, there's Doctor Harvey. I'm so glad she made it, although this may not be her favourite thing in the world. We should go greet her so she doesn't feel completely out of her depth."

Lucien smiled as he watched Alice. "No worries about that," he said. Li was pulling Jack with her as they approached the doctor. "She has her fan club."

As they both looked on, Li talked animatedly for a moment, then motioned for Alice to follow her.

"What's she up to?" Lucien wondered aloud.

Chuckling, Jean said, "Our daughter is a budding matchmaker. Look." It seemed Li had taken to heart her suggestion that Matthew Lawson and Alice should get acquainted.

Sure enough, Li led Alice directly to Matthew and appeared to be introducing the two of them. Then she and Jack went back to their dancing while Alice and Matthew seemed highly amused, but nonetheless began to chat.

"What do you think?" asked Jean. "I think they'd be good for each other."

Lucien thought it over. "Two people with high ethical standards, neither exactly comfortable in large social situations, both discreet and valuing their privacy. It could work if they'll only give it a chance."

"Wouldn't it be wonderful if our wedding brought those two good people together?" Jean said.

"I wish everyone happiness today, but none of them could be as happy as you've made me." He kissed her yet again, keeping it tasteful as he knew their children might be watching. "I suppose it's too early for us to make our getaway?"

"Soon," she told him.


End file.
